An impossible request
by SPgaia
Summary: Au from the Half-Blood Prince onwards. Severus Snape has been asked an impossible task by the Headmaster. In order to complete it, he needs the help of his best Potions student, Hermione Granger.
1. Chapter 1

Severus had always known one thing: when the Headmaster called him, it meant nothing good. It had become a pattern now. Absurdly as it was, he almost preferred a Death Daters' meeting. The Dark Lord could be nicer than Dumbledore at times. Alright, rarely, when he wasn't in one of his best moods, but still...

Completely taken by his thoughts, professor Severus Snape kept walking down the halls without really looking at anybody. His long and fast strides were accompanied by his billowing cloak. He knew how he was called by his students: the Bat of the Dungeons. He didn't mind it. If he had to be completely sincere about it, he didn't dislike it. It gave him a halo of darkness and after all he was a Death Eater. Besides, it had the benefit to keep everybody away.

He reached Dumbledore's office. It was time. He breathed deeply. Once, twice, thrice, till he couldn't delay the moment any longer. He called out another one of those silly passwords that the Headmaster had chosen for that week. Sure as hell, nobody would guess that the most powerful wizard of the all Wizarding world would use food names as passwords on his most private office. He had to admit that it was embarrassing but effective.

* * *

He entered cautiously out of habit. The headmaster didn't even acknowledge his presence as soon as he was inside. He kept looking at his darkening hand with a look of absolute concentration as his other hand scratched his long beard pensively. Severus knew that, for whatever reason the Headmaster might have called him, he was not going to like it. He neared the desk with silent footsteps, the only sound coming from Fawkes who looked at him boringly.

Several minutes later, Dumbledore raised his head and smiled at him, one of those kind and gentle smiles that Severus hated almost as much as the distorted and disgusting face of the Dark Lord. He knew that when Dumbledore smiled at him like that it was because he wanted something from him, something that sure as hell he wouldn't like.

"Severus." His tone was fatherly and almost hushed. Severus understood in that exact moment that whatever the Headmaster was going to ask him, he wouldn't only like it, but he would hate it.

"No." He said firmly. He didn't even want to know. Dumbledore started laughing with pure amusement.

"I know you so well, Severus." He said with a touch of melancholy in his voice.

"Don't try to corrupt me with a bit of loving attention. I'm no child." He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

"I never thought you were, Severus, not even when you were a child." He smirked amused. Severus barely raised an eyebrow in answer: that conversation was useless.

"I need your help, Severus." Snape could have guessed it by simply counting how many times the old man had been repeating his name in less than a minute.

"What a surprise, Headmaster." He drawled almost bored.

"Do you ever get tired of being so sarcastic?" Dumbledore's eyes shined mischievously.

"Not when you provide me with so many cues." Snape replied annoyed as his eyebrows shot up in an expression of calm but effective spite. The Headmaster laughed darlingly, his eyes glittering with sincere amusement.

"Fair enough. However, for how much this conversation is most entertaining - as you can well imagine - I would like to discuss with you more pressing matters." He looked at him over his glasses in his most authoritative expression.

"And what would those be?" As Severus realized it was going to be a long night he grabbed the chair in front of him and sat on it tiredly, waiting for the non-sense he was sure was about to come from the Headmaster's mouth.

"You told me I have only one year left, more or less, before the curse kills me." Severus nodded and Dumbledore was quite surprised to see a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I have thought about it for quite a while now. School is going to start next week and Voldermort will be more active again. You told me yourself that he gave a certain important task to Draco and we both know what that task is. Severus, we can't let him. In a most desperate situation like this, we have to try to get the best out of it." Severus breathed deeply. He could feel the penetrating gaze of the Headmaster on him but he couldn't bring his eyes to look at Dumbledore.

"What do you have in mind?" He hated himself as soon as the question came out of his mouth.

"If I really have to die, then we have to use it in our favor. If Draco kills me, not only my death would be useless, but the boy will have his soul stained forever. He is still innocent, Severus." If the situation hadn't been tragic, Severus would have laughed.

"Do you want to humor me tonight, Headmaster? Don't tell me that whatever you are planning is for the sake of Draco's soul." He spat with bitterness.

"Indeed not only for that. If you killed me, Severus, then Tom would be absolutely certain of your loyalty." Dumbledore replied with hushed solemnity.

"He never doubted it till now. You know I can be quite convincing." His lips curled slightly with no real enthusiasm.

"Still, it would be more helpful than if Draco killed me. Once the task is completed, you will be Tom's most trusted Death Eater." He explained with renewed strength. "We both know what is going to happen once I'm dead, Severus: Hogwarts will be deprived of the headmaster and the Death Eaters will take over. You know that as well as I do, Severus. If you killed me, there is much chance that Tom will promote you as the new headmaster of Hogwarts; you would be able to check over the school in the best way possible." Severus realised that all that speech had no sense at all. He started genuinely doubting that the curse might have effected the Headmaster's judgment.

"I would be alienated from the Order, how could that be useful?" He gritted his teeth to keep himself calm as all that non-sense tried his patience.

"I'm sure you will still be able to inform Harry when the right time comes." He replied confidently. Too much, for Severus' taste.

"Inform him about what, exactly?" He asked confused.

"When the right time comes, I will tell you but it is not now, Severus" He replied enigmatically.

"That's all, Headmaster?" He asked with barely kept venom.

"No, actually, no, it is not all." Severus took Dumbledore's amusement as a confirmation to his theory about the uncertain sanity of Dumbledore.

"I also thought about something else. Another solution, you may say." He contracted his darkened hand with a genuine smile in his eyes.

"What would that be? Something impossible, I reckon." He arched an upset eyebrow.

"Don't be so pessimistic, Severus." At that, Severus wondered how Dumbledore could have the courage to be so amused about a delicate issue as that. For Merlin's sake, did he know what he was demanding of him? Did he know how much all that would cost him?

"I will try to refrain myself, then." He drawled tiredly.

"I have to admit that it is a bit of an unusual request but I'm sure you may have some success in it. You could find a potion, Severus, a potion to heal me." Severus looked at him completely surprised.

"I told you already, there is no such potion. I'm a good Potions Master but I can't do the impossible." His request was none less dissimilar from the one the Dark lord had asked from Draco: it was simply impossible.

"I think you understimate your capacities, Severus. If there is anyone in the Wizarding world who could find a way to cure the curse, is you. Anyway I will leave the final choice to you." The Headmaster let his shoulders fall on the back of his chair. He looked exhausted and less crazy for one moment but soon after that little twinkle came back in his eyes.

"So my choice is between killing you or finding an impossible cure to your curse?" For once, Severus regretted switching to the good side. Being evil had been easier.

"Yes, that sums it up." Dumbledore replied kindly as his eyes kept shining with a light amusement that was completely out of place.

"Then why – if I may ask – did you let me have the post of Defence when I have to brew an impossible potion to cure your impossible curse?" His underlined kindness stronger than an angry shout.

"You know that as well as I do. I needed you there and I needed Slughorn back. Your office will still be in the dungeons, you are still the Head of Slytherin House, and you will still have your private potion lab. None of that will change. I must ask one last thing of you, Severus." Professor Snape was definitely looking forward to the end of that conversation at that point: in one hour, he had been able to gain three impossible requests. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if he stayed a bit longer.

"If I pleaded, I would be pleading you right now, Headmaster." he breathed deeply, his hands tightly folded in his lap as those words came out as a hushed and angered murmur through his gritted teeth

"It is a mere suggestion," He replied with his typical soothing voice, ignoring the fact that Severus had long known that a suggestion from Dumbledore was an order. "I would like to suggest you to have Miss Granger help you if you decide to pursue this task." Hadn't he been too tired, Severus would have laughed.

"I don't need help, Sir, and if I needed it, I wouldn't be asking it to a barely seventeen years old girl." Dumbledore smiled at him broadly and got up. His movements were a tiny bit slower than they used to be.

"She got a O in her Potions OWLs, I thought she was one of your best students." He sure couldn't deny that: the girl pursued knowledge relentlessy, she was the last one to leave the library every afternoon and her answers in class were always so disgustingly perfect.

"She is good but not in any way capable of brewing an impossible potion that even I don't know where to start." The old man had gone utterly insane if he thought an annoying young student – Gryffindor nonetheless - could help him in such task.

"She has certain... issues at heart, if I'm not mistaken." Was he really comparing her silly and immature project about House-Elves to his actual condition? "And she is curious. Besides, you need an assistant, Severus, you can't be a spy, a professor and the most capable Potions Master that I'm asking you to be without help. You need help. Miss Granger is discreet, capable, intelligent and curious. All qualities that would be helpful in finding a solution." His voice had that commanding but soft tone that Severus had been expecting all night.

"What I am supposed to tell her?" Even though he realised that in that right moment he was more inclined to kill the Headmaster himself than to cure him.

"Nothing. I will handle it. That's your final choice then?" The Headmaster's eyes were shining with victory but no way in hell he would give him that satisfaction that night.

"Not yet, Sir, right now I find myself quite undecided." his lips curled slightly in a sardonic smile as he got up and made his way out of the office. He could hear the faint and amused laugh behind his back.

* * *

He walked back to his dungeons in a rush. He didn't even acknowledge the tentative greetings of some of his students. In three days school would start and he was already exhausted. It was incredible how the Headmaster could be more tiring than a bunch of impossible and utterly incapable teenagers near a cauldron. He opened the door of his rooms and let out a deep breathe. Not only he had to deal with a crazy and cursed Headmaster and an insane Dark Lord, but now also with an annoying Gryffindor know-it- all. His life couldn't get worse. Nevertheless, he had no choice: if Dumbledore died, he would die too sooner or later, it would be only a matter of time. Or the Order would kill him or leave him to the Dementors, or he would become the favorite puppet of the Dark Lord – as if he wasn't that already – for the rest of his life, which he was sure wouldn't be long.

Trying to save Dumbledore life was an impossible task, he knew it as he was sure that the Headmaster himself knew it. He wanted to fool him in believing he had a chance to save both of them but it was a mere illusion. But damn it if he wouldn't try his best! He would not die till he saw the peril of the Dark Lord with his own eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: here is the second chapter! as I wrote on my profile page, this is going to be a long story, around 30 chapters. I'm going to update once a week and hopefully chapters will get longer with time.**

 **Reviews will get: longer chapters, faster updates and a happier writer! So you know what to do. On with story now!**

* * *

Only one day had gone by before Albus Dumbledore received the final answer from Severus. He had not had any doubt. The young man could be challenging sometimes but he knew he was good at heart. Sighing deeply, Dumbledore thought about the childhood and youth of Severus Snape. It hadn't been easy, he had been a remarkable child and young boy and it was such a pity that all his vast potential had gone lost for his unlucky friendships and associations. Dumbledore recognised he was part responsible for what had happened: he had cared more about his Gryffindors than Slytherins. Tom Riddle had been a Slytherin, most of the Death Eaters had been and were Slytherins. He had no faith in them and he had not been able to recognise the good nature of Severus Snape. He had lost him and now the young man had to atone for his juvenile mistakes for the rest of his life.

He couldn't change that. Dumbledore wasn't naïve and he wasn't that soft-hearted, not after so many years in a position that often obliged him to make difficult decisions but still his incapacity to save Severus haunted him. Maybe, if he was right after all, if Severus was half the person he thought he was, he would be capable of finding a solution and maybe there could be a happy ending for everyone. He smiled sadly, he knew he was becoming too sentimental with age.

Nevertheless, the young Griffyndor was finally at Hogwarts. He had been thinking about that plan for a while. She was one of the Golden Trio, the most capable if he had to be sincere – he sneered amused. Yes, Harry was the Chosen One and Ron was... well, he could have his moments but Hermione Granger? She was intelligent, cunning, curious about everything and she was a real Gryffindor at heart. She wouldn't be scared by the sharp ways of her professor. If there was a student who could face Severus Snape and come out of it undamaged, that was Hermione Granger. Maybe she could even soften him a bit. Ah! That was pure daydreaming. But he was sure she would be of help. Severus needed someone who could be his equal and Hermione was the right person.

He had warned Minerva about this meeting. He needed to meet the girl as soon as possible. What he asked of Severus was impossible and it wouldn't help to waste other precious time. He sat placidly on his chair as soon as he heard the door open. He sighed tiredly, he only hoped he had been right.

* * *

Hermione was confused but at the same time excited. She had never been called alone in the Headmaster's office and school had yet to start. It was going to be an interesting term the least. When Professor McGonagall had informed her about the meeting, she had started thinking about every single possible reason for which the Headmaster would call her – alone – in his office at the beginning of the school year. At the end, the most likely scenario was that he wanted to talk about her OWLs.

Her Head of House smiled at her one last time before leaving her alone to walk through the door. She took a deep breath and entered inside. She knew it could have not been anything bad but she was nervous all the same. Professor Dumbledore smiled at her fatherly as he stretched out from his seat with his usual elegance. She felt suddenly relieved and smiled back.

"Good evening, Miss Granger, I hope you had a pleasant summer." He gestured for her to take a seat.

"Yes, Sir, it was a nice summer but I'm happy to be back at Hogwarts." She was, actually, it was no pleasantry. She had been with Harry and Ron at the Burrow in the past couple of weeks but it was still nice to see her other schoolmates and teachers.

"I'm pleased to know that. I'm sorry to have to cut short this conversation but there are more important reasons for this social call, I'm afraid. May I offer you something, dear? Some lemon drops, perhaps?" Hermione noticed how his smile never dropped but it looked still so natural. Her cheeks would surely have hurt by now.

"No, thank you, Sir. May I ask what they are?" Alright, she thought, so it was not about her OWLs.

"I was talking with Professor Snape some days ago and we came up with an interesting idea. An experimental project, you may say. If it doesn't interfere with your studies and your prefect duties, would you be interested in participating?" She wondered if she had been hallucinating because there was no other explanation for that sudden absurdity. Not in a thousand years she would be able to imagine her Potions Professor agreeing to that idea.

"It looks... interesting, indeed, Sir but what is it about, exactly?" Hermione started looking around her in search of an explanation as the Headmaster smiled at her reassuredly.

"Professor Snape and I would like to brew a delicate potion. He would likely need an assistant and the only student who has an O in Potions is you, my dear." He finished nonchalantly as he took one of his lemon drops.

"If I am not wrong, Sir, also Mr Malfoy has an O in Potions." She wondered astonished how Professor Snape could ever choose her over Draco Malfoy. She had to be hallucinating.

"You are correct but you see, Mr Malfoy has been having some... problems this year and he may not be able to assist Professor Snape. But if you are too busy with your current obligations, we will surely find someone else." He stood up and made to take her to the door but she realized she didn't want to waste such an opportunity.

"I am sure I would be able to find some spare time for such an important project as this, Sir, if I'm needed" She replied in a rush, her eyes widening with sweet anticipation.

"Well, then, you shall discuss the details with Professor Snape as soon as possible. One last thing, dear: I would like you to keep this information to yourself for now, I'm sure you can understand why and be quite discreet about it. Well, I shall not keep you further. Have a good evening, Miss Granger, and keep an eye on those two boys friends of yours." He giggled happily, almost relieved but Hermione didn't notice it a bit: she was so enthusiastic that the Headmaster had chosen her among so many others, for a delicate project the least! However, her enthusiasm was soon cut short by the idea of working with Professor Snape. She was sure that the Headmaster had said that they both had thought of her but she suspected that Dumbledore had been simply kind enough to leave out the scepticism of her former Potions Professor about the mere idea of working with her. Or maybe, he wouldn't want to waste an occasion to deduct points from her and her friends. He hated Gryffindors as much as they hated Slytherins.

* * *

It took her a while – a whole day and afternoon – to remember that Professor Snape was a very powerful wizard and – she had to admit it – an amazing Potions Master. She couldn't help but wonder why he would ever need her help: she was a mere student of the sixth year, any other professor or even Dumbledore would be more capable than her. She wondered why she hadn't asked further information about that mysterious project that had to be kept a secret. Distracted by all those doubts and thoughts, she finally found herself in front of Professor Snape's office.

She had talked to him the previous day after the lesson, making sure no one else had been listening. It had been difficult to get rid of the boys and Professor Snape had looked around them suspiciously before addressing her with his typical annoyed tone. All he had said was that they would meet the next day before dinner in his classroom for further details before rushing away from the room with his fluttering robes. He hadn't looked angry but he hadn't looked completely happy about it either. If she really had to think about it, he had looked merely annoyed, which after all was his perpetual mood.

* * *

She knocked on the wooden door with frighted hesitation: she didn't know what to expect from the other side of the door. Hermione knew he had been a Death Eater, she knew he belonged to the Order now but still nor her, nor Harry or Ron were completely sure of where his loyalty laid. He was just... too dark. He looked like a Death Eater and he didn't get along with professor Lupin or with Sirius. He looked merely more acquainted with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall, more or less – it wasn't like he was a really social person with anybody in the end.

After a couple of seconds the door opened to show a pissed Professor Snape. Well, she thought, that was to be expected. He didn't look at her nor he greeted her with banal common manners as he just let the door open to let her in.

"Good evening, Sir." she exclaimed hesitantly, her voice not as sure as she wanted it to be. Trying to shake herself out of her sudden fear, she reminded herself that she was a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, she couldn't be scared of her professor, it didn't matter that it was Professor Snape she was talking about: the nightmare and boggart of so many students.

He muttered something that may have been similar to a "Good evening" but she wasn't quite sure. He finally looked at her, his face mere concentration and curiosity. He just kept staring at her and he didn't even try to be polite about it.

"What did Professor Dumbledore tell you, Miss Granger?" he sat at his desk, his gaze concentrated on some papers. It wasn't like she had been expecting a cup of tea and some biscuits but she had never seen Professor Snape in his private moments or merely outside of his lessons and she would never have imagined him to be even more... obnoxious – that was the right word – than in his classroom.

"Actually not much, Sir, just that you might need my help in brewing a potion" She replied uncertainly. Why all of a sudden she felt stupid?

She heard him sneer almost... amused.

"Really? That is... surprising. I don't need your help, Miss Granger, I don't know why our dear Headmaster thinks I do but we don't want him displeased, therefore just sit quiet and do your homework. I will work on the potion. When this hour is over, you won't utter a word about this to anybody, nor Potter or Weasley. Shall the Headmaster ask you about your hour here, just tell him we are doing our best to find a solution. Is it clear?" Well, it could have gone worse. He could have thrown her out of his office.

"I finished all my homework, Sir, in prevision of this meeting." She dared say as he glared at her with absolute spite. He had not thrown her out - yet - but she felt a sudden desire to do so herself.

"Then sit quiet and read this, I will examine you about it five minutes before you go." He turned around to pick up a book from one of the shelves. He handed it to her in a hurry and the fact that she almost had it fall from the sudden movement gained her another spiteful glare. She realized what she had actually known all along: it was going to be a really long evening.

He resumed his work without even sparing her another glance. She looked at the book and read the title. It was something about the potions of the third year, he had not even found her something more interesting. She got bored at the first page, she couldn't read what she already knew by heart for another second so she dared a pick at Professor Snape. For the first time in her school career, she saw him with his sleeves rolled up and with a look of absolute concentration that it almost felt like she was spying on a private moment. Fascinated by that new sight, she kept looking at him curiously from over the book. He didn't have that spiteful and superior scowl he always had when interacting with his students. He just looked... human. She smiled amused at that thought. The Bat of the Dungeons could be human, after all. She wondered if he was always like that when he was alone, with his sleeves rolled up and his face almost relaxed. Did he ever smile?

"Miss Granger?" she looked up to his eyes, caught off surprise.

"Yes, Sir?" she asked eagerly as she thought that he may need her help after all.

"Stop staring at me." He growled annoyed. She ducked her head back on the book pretending to read again. She didn't stop till she heard him mutter something under his breath in frustration. She almost expected him to throw something at the wall but he didn't. He took a long breath and started again, his hands busied with some ingredients over the cauldron, his eyes concentrated on a dusty and giant book.

It was the longest hour of her life. He kept getting nervous, he would mutter something between his teeth and then he would resume his work but it looked like he was getting nowhere - if his deep breaths were any indications of it. Precisely five minutes before the end of the hour, he closed the book annoyed and looked at her, regaining his usual detached demeanor. She closed the book with relief. For a second, she had been afraid that her face would give her infinite boredom away but in the end it wasn't like she really cared: the Headmaster had asked her to help Professor Snape, not to stay with him till she was bored to death - besides, he wasn't exactly the most entertaining person of the world.

"Miss Granger?" He said to draw her attention, her eyes locking with his expectantly.

"Yes, Sir?" she had always loved talking with her teachers but Professor Snape had always managed to intimidate her with his staring black eyes. She always felt... violated in a certain sense, as if he could read inside her soul. Remembering suddenly that he was one of the best Legilimens in all the Wizarding world, she ducked her eyes away hurriedly. He seemed to notice it and if at first he glared at her confused with his arched eyebrow, soon after he realised the cause of that sudden shy behaviour and his eyes glittered with controlled amusement.

"I'm not reading your mind, Miss Granger, I assure you I have no interest in it." He drawled with his usual sarcastic venom. She blushed terribly. It was incredible how the man could put so much sarcasm and spite in a couple of spoken words.

"Why did you accept this task, Miss Granger?" He looked... conversational, which was quite unbelievable.

"I wanted to help the Headmaster, Sir. I'm sure that if he has asked this of me, it is because I can do it, I can help." She really wanted to help, she surely didn't come here to twiddle her thumbs; had that been the occasion, she would have chosen a better place to do so, not certainly the office of Professor Snape. He looked so amused again: it was an expression that Hermione had been so unused to.

"It looks like the Headmaster and you have one goal in common." he looked like he was actually suppressing a smile. Well, she thought, that was already a big achievement.

"Which would be, Sir?" she replied tiredly. Not only she had to be humiliated by having been treated like a child for one entire hour, now he was also making fun of her with his usual spiteful sarcasm.

"Humor me to death, apparently." He spat annoyed. That was enough! She had not come up with that idea, not in even her wildest death wish she would imagine to spend more time than necessary with Professor Snape. Professor Dumbledore has asked her, he had thought she would be capable of doing something, and his opinion was much more valuable than the one of a former Death Eater after all. She didn't care she might actually be a little too cruel in her assumptions. She had always defended her teacher in front of Harry and Ron's accusations but she briefly wondered why she had ever bothered to. Maybe, seen his worst behavior, they had actually been right.

"Sir!" she was about to let go of all her anger but she was interrupted by his glacial stare.

"Miss Granger, you are merely seventeen years old, attending your sixth year at Hogwarts: you have no experience in brewing difficult potions, let alone create one that would verge on dark magic. Yes, Miss Granger, it would. You jumped right into this project and it never came up in your mind to question what exactly was asked of you. You are immature and naïve, a blunt Gryffindor, believing blindly in a person you don't even know. I assure you that you are in no way capable of helping me in this matter, when you don't even know what you are supposed to do." He growled with his towering scowl, his voice deep and harsh punctuating every word with obvious loath.

She was taken aback by that reaction. She was used to a sarcastic and glacial Professor Snape, capable of killing with just one well asserted stare, but for the first time she saw a Professor Snape who had lost his patience. She had been told by Harry and Ron how much scarier Professor Snape could be when angry but she still couldn't help to be surprised. Nonetheless, she would not be backed away that easily.

"You may be right, Sir. I might be young and naïve, as you say, and I'm Gryffindor and proud to be. I trust Professor Dumbledore's opinion and his recommendations. If he thinks I'm not supposed to know yet what this potion is about, then I trust him; if he thinks I might be of help, then I'm sure I might help. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Professor Dumbledore is considered one of the best and most powerful magicians of this century and his fight against evil has been well known for years, whereas your reputation..." She stopped herself just in time but the meaning was crystal clear behind those words. He looked at her with absolute rage. Damn it! She had been so overwhelmed by her emotions, she had been so caught up in defending herself in front of his accusations that she had lost control of her words. She closed her eyes shamefully.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean what I said but..." She kept murmuring words of sorrow but it didn't look like he was even listening to her anymore.

"Out." He replied quietly when he took his control back. His breaths calm again, his glacial scowl in check.

"Sir, I'm so sorry, I..." But she was interrupted again by his enraged gaze.

"Get out." His tone was still calm but the venom behind those single two words was overwhelming. She decided to admit defeat for that night. He was absolutely enraged and any excuse would be poor anyway for she wouldn't mean them. He had been mean on purpose, he had offended the Headmaster and her repeatedly and she just had not been able to take it anymore. He had her sit down on a chair reading some stupid book about potions that she had already known by heart. She knew he wouldn't be easy to deal with but still, he had her lose her patience in less than hour. She was a Gryffindor but it didn't mean she was suicidal, too: she would never snap like that at one of her professors, let alone Professor Snape, if she hadn't been provoked.

She got out of his office in a rush. She didn't even turn around to check him one last time, she didn't want to know if he was still looking at her. She let one deep breath go once outside as well as a groan of frustration.

What was she going to tell to the Headmaster and to Professor McGonagall? They had given her an important duty and she had already messed everything up.

She decided she wouldn't tell anything unless she was asked to. In the meantime she would find a way to apologise properly. She had been right, she knew she had, but this was a collaboration, and collaborations were never easy, let alone with the Bat of the Dungeons. Hermione knew he was a "tread carefully" kind of person but still, he was so unnerving, more than she had expected him to be. She had to be diplomatic, which meant she would apologise even if she had been utterly right. She would write him a letter and manage a way to send it to him. She started walking back to her dormitories with more optimism even though she had no doubt that it was going to be a hell of a semester.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I just want to thank everybody that is following or reviewing this story.**

 **Also, shall I receive five or more reviews for this chapter, the next one will be posted on Friday. It will be longer, with more Hermione / Snape interaction, and funny dialogues. So, guys, you know what to do!**

* * *

Once Granger had been out, Severus let all his boiled up anger out by throwing a book against the wall. It was the same book that Miss Granger had been reading during the hour there and just for that he didn't want to see it anymore for a long time. Spoiled brats! That was all they were! She had had the suicidal courage to accuse him of being a Death Eater. How could she? After all he had done, after he had voted his life in atoning himself for the stupid mistakes he had made when he had been just a little older than a child. And still it wasn't enough, he was still and was always going to be a Death Eater to the eyes of the perfect Gryffindors. He hated them all! Hadn't he met Lily, he wouldn't have been angry enough and lonely enough to join Voldemort's ranks. When Gryffindors were around, it sure as hell meant trouble.

He had saved their lives so many times that he wouldn't be able to count them anymore and yet, his reputation was still that of a Death Eater. He would have expected something like that from Potter, even from Weasley but he had actually thought that Miss Granger could be a little more intelligent and intuitive than that. He had been fooled by Dumbledore's praises, he would always paint his little Gryffindors like heroes and heroines when they were nothing more than suicidal brats with no brain and rational thought.

However he had to see the positive side of it. He sighed tiredly, putting back all the ingredients and cleaning the cauldron with a spell. At least now he would be free of Miss Granger. There was no way she was going to try to come back for helping him and that mere thought almost had him smile.

* * *

It wasn't difficult. She could apologise. She could write a letter. She could do it, she knew she could, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She had been right!

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that it wasn't a matter of whom had been right or wrong, but about having to deal with the Bat of the Dungeons in order to help the Headmaster. She had to be humble for the greater good. She sighed annoyed: her fight against evil had just started and she was already tired of it.

She took a new parchment and bathed the quill in the ink. She would be diplomatic but a question buzzed in her mind. She just wondered how Dumbledore could put up with Professor Snape. It didn't look like they talked that much but still, she wondered how come he had not killed him yet. For Merlin's sake, she wondered how Voldemort had not done it years ago. She laughed amused, it actually had to be a funny scene to see that madman of Voldemort fight with Professor Snape. She shook her head still with a smile on. She looked outside the window, it had to be quite late. She resumed her work quickly and in ten minutes she had finished to write her letter. She couldn't do more than that.

The next day in the Great Hall at breakfast, she looked up at the High Table to check for Professor Snape. He was eating his breakfast silently, not even trying to enjoy the conversations that the other professors had started. She wanted to understand the man but soon she discovered out that it was quite impossible. He was so buttoned up – as were his robes – that it was impossible to get even a glimpse of his true persona. He looked just so... alone, not even lonely, just alone: he could talk to people, he could be nicer but he just didn't want to be, he wanted to be alone. At least she understood that much: he was a private person.

"Hey, Mione, what are you thinking about? You look so... pensive." Her gaze lingered a little bit longer on Professor Snape before eyeing Ron with as much carelessness as she could muster.

"Nothing important, just on some DADA essay. Are you quite finished? Lessons will start in ten minutes, we would better get going." It would be better for her if she concentrated on her studies. Thinking too much about Professor Snape and that impossible project was useless but she couldn't help wondering if he had been talking to the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore had looked at the younger man quite a few times during the meal.

"Have you looked at Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall? They look quite preoccupied. I wonder about what exactly." Her thoughts were once again interrupted by the suspicious voice of Harry. He kept his gaze fixed on the two professors who were looking at each other in displeasure. She looked at Professor Snape and his eyes were concentrated on reading a page of the Daily Prophet. He didn't look displeased, just surprised.

"Have you read the Daily Prophet?" She asked him looking around for a copy. She had been so caught up in her thoughts about Professor Snape and the mysterious project that she had forgotten to read the daily newspaper.

"No, why?" He asked back, his eyes suspicious again.

"Because they are all reading it and it seems that whatever is crossing their minds, it has to do with what it is written on it." She explained distractedly while grabbing a copy of the newspaper. She opened the first page and had her eyes roaming in search of the bad news. Her attentions was caught by a moving photo of some people crying desperately. Three Muggle-Borns had been killed in Nocturn Alley the night before. She passed the copy to Harry and she saw his eyes inflaming in front of the news.

She looked back at the High Table but both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape were gone. She sighed and got up, she had a lesson to attend to.

* * *

He didn't want to have this talk, he wanted to get his lessons started so that he could go back to his chambers and try to have a night off. He sighed with longing: it was an impossible dream, it was Friday and the Dark Lord would much probably call him. That crazy project, the insistence of Dumbledore, his fight with Miss Granger had left him quite limp and tired. He didn't have enough energy to put up with another meeting with Dumbledore and soon after, a night out with the Dark Lord.

"Things are getting worse, Severus." He was brought back to reality by the deep voice of Dumbledore.

"I noticed that, Headmaster." He drawled with slight sarcasm in his voice. It was not like he could do much. He didn't like the idea of all the people that would die during the war but nothing could be done... yet.

"More people will have to die in this war, I'm quite aware of that. I wish I could stop it, I wish the time had already come but it has not and I'm afraid that we will have to witness much more than just a three Muggle-Borns death before everything is over." Dumbledore sat on his chair with a sigh of tiredness.

"I have already done that, Albus, for years now, all I do is witness innocent people die and sometimes even by my own hand. Do you think I'm not as much troubled by this war as you are, and I dare say even more?" Severus spat with barely kept anger. How could he? How could he even try to make him feel guilty about all that story? He had been plotting impossible plan by sitting behind a secure desk in a safe castle, while he had been tortured, forced to do things he would not even be able to imagine in his worse moments, coerced to kill, torture, and have satisfaction of it. How could he even try to have that kind of conversation with him?

"Quiet, Severus. That pain and powerlessness was not meant to you. Am I not legitimated to let my anger out every now and then, too?" Dumbledore said with one of his best calm but authoritative voices.

"Actually, since the subject came out, how is your collaboration with Miss Granger going?" Severus stopped his agitated paces in front of the Headmaster's desk and looked at him with suspicion. He wouldn't believe in a thousand years that that mild outburst had been innocent.

"I believe quite well... it is already over." He replied with no expression if not with a slight glee of happiness in eyes bad concealed. If the face of the Headmaster had been satisfied at the beginning of that phrase, now was quite annoyed as he looked at him with some anger in his usual quiet blue eyes.

"I was not expecting that, Severus." If he had answered to his provocation with some indignation in his voice at the beginning, he then sighed tiredly getting up again from his chair with some fatigue.

"Well, surprise, Sir." He drawled with a slight amusement in his tone. He could have a bit of fun before the old man would try to persuade him otherwise.

"So you had your first quarrel with Miss Granger? How so, my dear boy?" Was Dumbledore really trying to talk him into that stupid project again just by using his sweet nicknames?

"I'm not a student anymore, Albus, some cheap gimmicks won't help you to persuade me in this craziness any longer." He growled annoyed as his paces got furious again with his billowing cloak following behind him.

"I was just trying to be polite, Severus, there is no need to get so suspicious over nothing. I believe that your long time as a spy has spoiled you and if I didn't know better, I would believe that you are trying to avoid an answer to a particularly delicate question." Severus looked at Dumbledore with his arched eyebrow, an expression of amused surprise placed on his face.

"You sure know how to play mind games, Headmaster. Since you are insisting so much to know about what happened with Miss Granger, I suggest you to talk with her about this delicate matter." He was about to walk away in a complete rage when the calm voice of Dumbledore called him back.

"Severus!" He barked with authority and he couldn't help but stop his exit.

"What else now, Sir?" He turned around but he didn't walk back an inch.

"I won't talk with Miss Granger. But I want to tell you something: I trust your judgement and if you believe that this collaboration is impossible, if you believe that the girl cannot be helpful, then you are free to act on your own as you best see fit. But if you are doing this for some unknown personal reasons that cloud your professional judgement, then you are fully responsible for the outcome. As you said, Severus, you are not a student anymore and you are able to make valuable decisions on your own. I didn't question you about your progress with Miss Granger because I wanted to manipulate you, Severus, but merely because I thought you may have needed somebody to ask suggestions to. This war is important, Severus, and you know it more than anybody else but I won't force what is not meant to be. Goodnight, Severus." Severus looked at Dumbledore with some bewilderment in his eyes, his dark eyes still following the slim figure of Dumbledore as he retired himself in his chambers. With his arched eyebrows in an expression of suspicious surprise, he got out of the office thinking over and over again about that last part of the conversation. He couldn't help but wonder: what was he missing?

* * *

Lunch was over and it was time for the DADA lesson. No, she could not do this. She leaned her back against the wall in one of the hallways outside the Great Hall. Everybody had already scrambled to their next lesson. She had made sure that nobody was around before letting her growl of frustration come out. Why did it have to be so damn difficult?

She was about to go when she heard some footsteps dawn the hall. She didn't have time to get back on her feet and rush towards her lesson when Professor Dumbledore appeared in all his powerful demeanor. For a moment she thought he hadn't seen her but when he walked right in front of her, his gaze fixed somewhere in front of him, she heard his deep and calm voice.

"Don't give up, Miss Granger, don't give up." He wispered solemnly. She could almost tell an amused and almost tender smile in the semi-darkness of the hallway. Was she hallucinating?

* * *

She could do this, she could give him her letter. No, she couldn't, she was a liar, a bad one, no less. She looked at her friends with some expectations as if they could understand the indecision she was going through but they didn't even notice her demeanour of suffered hesitation before entering the DADA classroom. The professor was not there yet and she let out a sigh of relief.

Her heartbeat was maddening inside her breast. Every minute that passed, she would look back at the door waiting for his billowing cloak to come in and when she thought she had finally controlled her running heartbeat and her deep breaths – and was actually quite proud of it – the door barked open with a billowing cloak: she was sure she had just had an heart attack and was alive by some miracle.

He didn't even cast a glance at her, he just went straight to his desk and turned around to look at them with his typical disappointed gaze. It didn't matter that they were all around 16 or 17 years old and that most of them had faced far scarier things than a professor; Professor Snape was still able to scare them all... equally.

His face was one of pure rage and nobody risked to even breathe more loudly than it was necessary. After a couple of minutes had gone by, he finally snapped out of his deep thoughts and looked back at them with an expression of mild surprise, as if he had not expected his students to be in his classroom. Nobody seemed to notice that, nobody actually tried to look at him when he was in that sore mood but Hermione couldn't take her eyes off him, she wanted to understand what had happened, what he had said to the Headmaster that morning. His eyes went roaming on every single student but her. She tried to set aside a sudden feeling of disappointment.

He started his lesson, his steps silent and imposing while he talked about some dark curses with his usual drawled and deep voice. For the first time in her life, Hermione didn't understand a single word of what was being said during a lesson. She darted a look at her parchment but it was completely empty. She sighed with tiredness, that project was going to be the death of her.

After that infinite hour had finally gone by, everybody was rushing to get their belongings in order to be out of the room as soon as possible. She took a deep breath and decided to try her fortune. She kept repeating herself that she was a Gryffindor, she could face the Greasy Git without trembling. She took a couple more minutes than was necessary to collect her personal items from her desk and when she was sure everybody was out of the classroom, she darted a look at Professor Snape. He wasn't looking at her, he hadn't looked at her during the whole lesson and had she not known better, she would have said that he looked almost shy as he tried to busy himself with some papers on his desk.

She took some hesitant steps towards the desk, and when he still forced himself not to look at her, she sighed resigned: he was not going to make it easier for her. Fine, she wouldn't give up.

Resolute, she took her last steps towards the desk and since he was still pretending not to see her, she cleared her throat unequivocally.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" He let out with a tired sigh, his eyes still focused on some random papers on the desk.

"I just wanted to give you this, Sir. I'm terribly sorry for what I said during our last encounter. It had been rude and impolite of me and I hope you can accept my apology." She gave him the letter in a rush before scrambling away from the classroom. She had been enough Gryffindor for the day and she could be proud of herself. He didn't call her back and she didn't risk a glance behind her back to see his reaction. Once outside, she just smiled triumphantly for that little success.

* * *

Sun was shining outside. She could tell she had been sleeping in for a while. After all, it was Saturday and she could afford that luxury for one day. She was about to get back to sleep when something poked her cheek. She grunted annoyed, about to throw whatever it was somewhere out of her bed but when she realized that what she was touching was actually a piece of paper, or better a piece of good quality parchment, her eyes shot open completely awakened. She took the paper between her fingers, enjoying for a moment the feel of a such soft parchment. She opened it and read that few lines impatiently. "Meet me tonight at seven o'clock." she could never mistake that spiky handwriting. With a satisfied smile on her face, she got up of the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Reading back the previous chapters, I noticed that there some misspelled words and a few grammatical mistakes. For lack of time, I generally don't re-read the chapters once I have written them. Some day, I will go back and edit them. From now on, though, I will try to be more careful and precise before submitting the chapters.**

 **Look! A Saturday update! Don't I deserve extra reviews just for that?**

* * *

"Where are you going, 'Mione?" Harry and Ron had been playing chess in the Gryffindor common room and Hermione actually hoped that they were so taken into the game not to notice her furtive paces towards the door. Apparently, she had been mistaken.

"In the library, I have to check a couple of books for a... DADA essay." She stuttered with little plausibility. She knew she was a terrible liar and had she been with some Slytherins, she would have been caught immediately. Thank Merlin, she was dealing with other two Gryffindors.

"Do you know how creepy you are? I just want to tell you that. It is a Saturday afternoon in mid-October, nobody else would study but you. By the way, I don't remember a DADA essay due next week." Ron stopped the game for a while, his hands still and his face turned towards her for a second. Hermione kept her breath, afraid to have been busted.

"Well, it is not like I would remember that anyway. See you at dinner, then, don't get too full by eating books." His mind got back to the game completely and Harry was already so absorbed that Hermione doubted he had even been aware of that brief conversation.

She let out a sigh of relief once outside. She realized that she absolutely had to improve her cover stories if she was going to meet Professor Snape quite often in the next weeks.

* * *

She descended the stairs with relative calm. She had been out of her dorm at 6.30 PM so that she could take her time and a relaxing walk while reaching the Professor's office. God only knew she needed it before spending an entire hour, alone, with Professor Snape.

Their last conversation had actually raised a lot of doubts in her mind. She trusted the Headmaster blindly but she didn't understand why Professor Snape would want her to doubt about what they were doing. She didn't trust him completely, so Ron and Harry. He was too suspicious and Harry had often seen him in compromising situations about the Death Eaters. Still, Professor Dumbledore trusted him blindly for giving him such an important and secretive task. So - she wondered - was or was not Professor Snape trustworthy?

At seven o'clock she knocked on the wooden door of Professor Snape's office. It didn't even take a full second to pass before the door opened in front of her with a slight click. She waited for some sound to reach her but she knew she was waiting in vain. She had never met anyone as sneaky as Professor Snape and that didn't quite comfort her.

She overstepped the door with a slight sense of wariness. Since her last conversation with her Potions Master she had become quite paranoid. He was sitting behind his desk looking at some books in front of him. She closed the door behind her as silently as possible and took advantage of his momentary concentration on the books to give a better look at the room.

Last time she had been there she hadn't really looked around. It had been a normal professor office, one she had visited quite a few times in the previous years. But now she wanted to understand a few things: first, if Professor Snape could be considered trustworthy, second, what that secretive project was really about.

So she decided that for getting a few answers she had to start from that same room. It was a quite comfortable room, if she had to be sincere. Not too big, not too small, different from Professor McGonagall's office. Hers had been square and in a certain sense joyful in its severe composure, more or less like Professor McGonagall's personality. That room was, instead, kind of tight. Everything about the room shouted "Slytherin", with its dark brown and green colors. Along the walls, there were shelves full of books, both on the right and left side. At the bottom of the room there was a desk made of what looked like heavy wood, full of flying parchments and bottles of different potions. Besides that there was another desk, simpler than that one though longer, with a set of cauldrons on it and quite a few books scattered on the ruined surface. Instead, on the other side of the room – the right one – on the far corner of the room there was a large cabinet full of bottles aligned with a certain precision. A couple of steps further to where she was standing there were two armchairs made of dark leather – which actually looked pretty comfortable.

"I see you have finally made yourself comfortable with my office, Miss Granger." She wondered if he was being sarcastic since he seemed to underline with some nuisance the property of his office.

"I was just looking around, Sir." Since she couldn't be sure, she decided to be vague.

"Even the wizards in Romania are quite aware of that. You lack subtlety, Miss Granger, and it is never good when you have to be discreet." She already wanted to sigh and roll her eyes and she had been there for just a couple of minutes.

"If I may, why do you care, Professor?" She just hoped that her annoyance was not too much evident in her voice but as he looked at her with his perpetual raised eyebrow, she doubted it.

"Because I'm afraid I have no other choice than to work with you on this particular task, Miss Granger, which is quite dangerous. I wouldn't want to die because you are... naive as a toddler and you have a complete lack of survival instinct." She was quite sure he had intended to use some far worse word than "naive" if his clean-cut smirk at the corners of his mouth was any indication of it.

"I wouldn't tell about this project to anybody, Sir." she let out through gritted teeth.

"Word is not the only mean of communication, Miss Granger. I guess this comes quite as a news to you. Your reactions are too obvious, you may not speak a word but everything is written already on your face. There are so many ways to give important information away accidentally." She knew she was actually fuming when she saw his sigh of annoyed boredom.

"What is this project really about, Professor?" She was tired of those stupid games.

"You are not to know for now. When you learn a bit of serious discretion, then you will know. But till then, you will only do what I tell you to do and I don't want to hear any complaints about it, otherwise you know where the door is." The gleam of pure amusement in his eyes just made her more furious until she realized something: he provoked her so she would go away, so she would give up. Oh! She was so not going to give him that satisfaction. If he wanted to give up, then it was up to him but he wouldn't drive her away with a few poisonous remarks. With renewed strength, she let her bag fall on the armchair before approaching his desk.

"Alright, Sir, I accept your every condition. What shall I do?" She had to gather all of her good will not to smile as the realization of her plan hit his mind. His eyes narrowed dangerously and she was sure she could quite hear a low growl coming from the back of his throat.

"Take your coat off and stand by my side. I will be the only one to deal with the cauldron and all the ingredients while you can... read what is written on the books and parchments I will show to you. You shall face no difficulties in this task, I reckon, Miss Granger." He sneered with his usual arched eyebrow.

Rolling up her sleeves, she knew she was going to face one of the most trying hours of her life. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she picked the few books in front of her so she could read better.

"Don't touch anything, Miss Granger." He said punctuating every single word with superior indignation.

About to cry from desperation, she kept repeating herself what she was afraid had become the mantra of the year: _Don't kill your professor, even if the world would be a better place without him_.

* * *

"Pour... a... hand... fu...l... of..." Hermione narrowed her eyes in full concentration, leaning over the table, trying very hard to decipher what was written on the ruined parchment. She could recognize the spiky handwriting of her professor but it was not written in its usual elegance. The words had been written so fast and in such a sharp way – as if he had been writing without a support under the page – that it was almost impossible to understand what was written.

"Miss Granger, I'm quite aware of the exaggeration of the Headmaster praises for his students, but I actually thought that you were at least capable of reading. My terrible mistake, I suppose." He said with his usual drawled and annoyed voice as his foot tapped impatiently on the floor. She risked a furious glance towards his direction and she was quite sure to see an amused smile in the semi-darkness of the room.

"And I actually thought that the Headmaster would choose people who were at least capable of writing as professors of Hogwarts. My mistake, I suppose, Sir." She replied calmly. She had expected some kind of exaggerated reaction while she only saw his amused smile deepen a little. Just at that, her anger subdued a little.

"I think the world has come to an end: finally we agree on something, Miss Granger. The Headmaster doesn't always make the wisest choices." His voice leaked irony as she could barely suppress a smile: who knew that Professor Snape could have some sense of humor.

"It surely must be, since I agree with you on that, too Sir." Yes, he was definitely smiling now.

"Though I'm sure the end will come really soon given our sudden connection, I believe we should at least try to save the world for now. Could you please make an effort to read what's written on the parchment?" His smile was gone and his dark eyes were once again concentrated on the task at hand.

"pour a... handful of Bezoar... powder." She announced successfully. She looked at him in anticipation but he just did as he was told, he didn't even look at the parchment to be sure of what she had said. She really doubted he trusted her, much probably he just knew by heart what he had written on the parchment not a long time ago. Still, it was quite nice he wanted her to feel useful. That, or he was quite obliged to have her around. She thought the latter was the most plausible. She wondered why the Headmaster wanted so badly for them to collaborate. It looked like even Professor Snape didn't know the exact reason.

"Miss Granger, get your head out of the clouds and tell me what I have to do next." She shook herself from her doubtful thoughts and began to read again.

"Chop and pour... three... leaves of... Dittany." Once again, he did as he was told not even taking a glance on the parchment but something came in her mind that diverted her attention from the concentrated gaze of her professor. Bezoar, Dittany... it looked like some kind of healing potion. It surely didn't look dark.

"What else, Miss Granger?" She shook her head and resumed her reading.

"Have it rest for 48 hours." But he had already started his incantation. That just confirmed that he already knew what he had to do.

"Well, then, I believe you can go now. We shall meet in two days, same place. As usual, I suggest you to be discreet about our... meetings." She nodded vigorously before taking her coat and bag back. She was about to open the door when she heard his deep voice again.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, for your help." He said with no emotion at all but when he risked what could be called a shy glance towards her, she couldn't help but smile in return.

Once outside, she resumed her thinking about the mysterious potion. She was going to call it The Potion from now on because she was damn sure that that potion was extremely important. So, The Potion was a healing potion. By the ingredients they used today, she could say that some kind of dark curse was involved. She wondered what kind of curse it could ever be and mostly, about who had been cursed.

She took a deep breath before heading to the Great Hall for dinner on a rush.

* * *

"So how did your study go? Boring as always?" Ron asked her as soon as she took her seat between her friends.

"It was not boring at all, and you should study more, we are NEWTs student now." It was still a mystery to her how Ron and Harry could manage to always pass the exams when they hadn't opened a book in a while, maybe since the OWLs.

"It looks like Harry is getting that now, have you seen how much bothered he is by his Potions book? He is almost quite as obsessed as you are, I'm afraid he even sleeps with it." Laughing at the bewildered expression on Ron's face, she took a glance at Harry. Indeed, he hadn't even acknowledged her presence as his eyes read the worn book furiously.

"I didn't know you had a passion for Potions, Harry." He had always hated Potions as he had always hated Professor Snape and Professor Slughorn wasn't that great either: he was not even half as through with his lessons as was Professor Snape.

"Yes." That's all he replied, his eyes still concentrated on the book while sometimes picking something from his plate blindly.

She shook her head and started her dinner, she was quite famished! Spending an hour with Professor Snape was like a Quidditch match... and she hated flying! Though, she had to admit reluctantly that that last meeting had not been that bad, she actually had enjoyed herself. That afternoon she had discovered out – at her immense surprise – that even Professor Snape could be quite entertaining.

She risked a glance at the High Table. As always, Professor Snape was eating quietly, avoiding the professors' chatter around him as much as possible. What was curious, though, was the interesting gaze of the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore was looking at Professor Snape with a certain curiosity in his eyes and soon after his gaze moved on her. He smiled at her with an entertained glee in his eyes and then resumed his dinner with his usual mesmerizing ease.

She had to find a way to understand what exactly was going on.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore was quite satisfied at the favorable turn of events. The previous week he had been quiet certain that his plan had failed miserably but now he could say that there was still hope. Miss Granger was stubborn and headstrong as much as Severus, maybe even more. He chuckled amused, he couldn't wait to hear Severus' report on their last meeting.

The Headmaster didn't have to wait much: after ten minutes, he could hear the usual dramatic entrance of his DADA professor. As soon as he heard the door bang, he appeared in front of him with his usual scowl of disapproval.

"Good evening, Severus." He would not ask, he knew he only had to wait for hearing about the last progressions. Severus could be quite suspicious and if he made too many questions, he might lose what little he had gained till then.

"Headmaster." Or maybe he had been wrong.

"Would you fancy some lemon drops?" He offered as he prepared a couple for himself.

"No, thank you." He wondered if he could see through see passive tactic. He sighed, knowing quite well how Severus could play that silence game longer than him.

"So, any development about our project?" He asked resigned to start that conversation.

"We will have some answers in 48 hours but I would not get your hopes up." He nodded dubiously while observing Severus' wary gaze around the room.

"It is still early, we can't expect things to work out so easily. Besides, we have a few months before we can think about giving up. Is Miss Granger being useful?" He heard the silent and sarcastic sneer of Seveurs in the quietness of the room.

"We are... getting along in the best way possible, I believe. I even went so far as to thank her." Dumbledore couldn't help but look surprised at that drawled remark. He recovered before he could be noticed, it wouldn't be good to kill the enthusiasm when it was just born.

"I think it is a good way to start a sane collaboration. I'm sure that with time – when she is more at ease with the situation - she could even come up with some interesting ideas." He replied tactfully.

He was answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't understimate her, Severus, she can be quite creative in her solutions and I might even risk to say that in my opinion she is the best actual student at Hogwarts. Give her a chance and I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Anyway, it is getting late and my age and condition don't support my juvenile soul anymore. I bid you a goodnight, Severus." Dumbledore knew not to push Severus too much. He hadn't said anything that was untrue, he actually doubted he had ever been more sincere than in that one last chat. For the first time in a really long time, he wasn't playing mind games for winding plots, but for something that could actually be good.

* * *

Severus let himself out, his long strides taking him back to the safety of his gloomy dungeons. Why was Dumbledore so obsessed with Miss Granger? He couldn't lie, she was a good student – an excellent student, if he wanted to be sincere. He looked around him to make sure nobody was there to hear those sinful thoughts. He knew she was one the best students of Hogwarts, he just couldn't bear her. Her waving hand and her know-it-all demeanor just didn't do for him. Maybe Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore could be fascinated by such... attentiveness but for him, it would only get on his nerves.

He had to admit she had been quite... calm in her last meeting. He could... manage her for a while. She was the least trouble maker of the Golden Trio, though still annoyingly insufferable.

As long as she didn't bother him too much and that collaboration could shut the old man up for a while, he didn't mind to bear her company for a while. Nevertheless – he thought mischievously - he wasn't going to give up to get rid of her invading presence as soon as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: What do we have here? An update on Wednesday? A longer chapter? Sometimes miracles happen, folks! Don't I deserve some rewards? Some wonderful reviews, maybe?**

* * *

That night she had to meet with Professor Snape again and for the first time since she had returned back to Hogwarts she felt some thrilling anticipation. Severus Snape turned out to be less evil than she had thought in the end. He had even thanked her! Or the smokes from the heated cauldron had had some kind of effects on him or he could be kind of gentle out of a classroom. He still was the obnoxious Bat of the Dungeons, with his pointy remarks and his sarcastic arched eyebrow, but he had not been as mean as she had expected.

She had tried to get more information about The Potion but she had failed miserably. When she was not studying for classes or when she wasn't too busy with her friends, she had tried to gain some information about the ingredients he had used in the library. Nothing came out, though.

She had looked up in books about healing potions but nothing combined Dittany and Bezoar powder, which was actually kind of strange. It was impossible that there were no healing potions regarding different curses.

Since that was impossible, it meant that the library had no books that regarded potions that healed curses. Which was strange, too. The library of Hogwarts was immense and it was one of the most equipped libraries of the all Wizarding world.

She put her quill down, her Charms essay completely forgotten in front of her. She was missing something, she had to.

If Professor Snape was using those ingredients, it was because he had seen them somewhere. Professor Dumbledore had told her that what they had to do was create a new potion. Professor Snape was one of the most powerful potioneer of the world but she was sure he would get some ideas from books.

She had studied his office attentively but she had forgotten to check the books that had laid on the table. They hadn't looked familiar: they had been dusty, enormous, old, really old. The library of Hogwarts had thousands of old books but nothing that old and precious. No, she had never seen them. Even though she regretted not to have given a better glance at their cover, she realised she couldn't have read the title anyway. Professor Snape would have noticed her and she was sure he wouldn't have reacted too well. Besides, there was no way she could be alone in his office or that he would leave her alone even for just a couple of seconds. No, it was out of the way.

Maybe they belonged to his personal collection. She remembered to have seen a quite interesting supplying of books on the shelves everywhere around the room.

Or maybe – she realized with some trepidation – they belonged to the Restricted Section. A lot of the most interesting books were in the Restricted Section. There was no way she could get in there easily, specially now that the Professors and the Headmaster were wary of everything that happened that was out of the ordinary.

She could ask Harry his Invisibility Cloak but it would still be a hazard. No, she would wait. If in ten or more days things would not get clear, she would risk that venture.

Giving a fast and distracted glance at the clock, she realized she had dwelled too much on her thoughts and had not finished her essay. Taking a deep breath, she tried to finish her homework in a hurry. For once, Professor Flitwick would have to settle for a sufficient essay from her. It was already 6 PM and she still had to get ready.

For the first time in her life, Hermione didn't care if her essay wasn't the best of the all Wizarding world. She had more important things to think about. For once, saving the world with Severus Snape.

* * *

She knocked on the wooden door of his office at 7 o'clock. Truthfully, she had been in front of the door for the past ten minutes, imagining what she would find behind it. Was the potion they had brewed two days earlier successful? Would he be angry if it was not? She knew a potion complicated as that could not be brewed at the first attempt. It would be... too easy.

Taking a deep breath and willing her heart to slow down, she entered the door once it was slightly opened by a soft click. Ignoring the quiet creak of the door, she took two steps further to look at her professor. As always when they met on their furtive meetings, his head was bent over some dusty books reading furiously. She ogled those pages with longing: if she could only get a glimpse of their title, she would be able to discover something more about their secretive project.

As if he had actually heard her thoughts, his head snapped up and his hands clutched the books with indignation. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she smiled at him reassuringly which gainer her a suspicious arched eyebrow. Was he reading her mind? Trying to block her mind with those little notions she had about Occlumency, he looked at her more intensely.

"Would you care to close the door, Miss Granger, or do we want everybody to know that we are meeting secretively in my office almost every afternoon?" Feeling her cheeks inflame at the caught distraction, she rushed to close the door behind her.

As his eyes were gleaming with maliciousness, she caught up with the insinuative remarks of her professor. Blushing furiously, and so ashamed she couldn't control her emotions, she willed her hair to fall in front her face to cover as much as possible what was an embarrassing reaction.

"The potion didn't work. I took off the Stasis Charm just five minutes before you entered but it was... completely unusable." Glancing at the cauldron in front of her, she took a tentative step towards it.

"Go on, take a look." He told her absently, his eyes once again concentrated on some notes in front of him.

Looking inside the cauldron, she was most surprised to see that... there was simply nothing. No bubbling liquid, no greenish magma. Where had the potion gone?

"Sir, there is nothing in here." She stated lamely.

"I'm quite aware of that, Miss Granger, my eyes work perfectly well." He replied with his usual derisive and drawled voice. Suppressing the need to roll her eyes, she asked her next question.

"I never doubted that, Sir, what I meant implicitly is why." She could see his eyebrow raising at her sarcastic cheek but he didn't say anything about it, though she could see an amused glee in his eyes.

"You will find this most surprising but I don't know." He replied dryly, almost uncomfortable.

Unsatisfied with his reply, she continued: "But there must be a reason, Sir." She affirmed frustrated, which gained her two black narrowed eyes.

"Then enlighten me, Miss Granger, I was really looking to be amused tonight." He spat with sarcasm, his arms folded on his chest.

"I... well... I don't know, Sir, but I think we should find out." How could they make progress if they didn't know where they had made a mistake?

"We, Miss Granger? We should find out? I don't see how you could ever be capable of helping me in this matter. I'm going blindly here, Miss Granger, I have got no clue of what I am doing." He admitted defeated, his eyes looking at his books with absolute hate.

"If you told me more about the project, Sir, I would be able to help. I'm not a Potion Master, I'm quite aware of that, but I could look up in books, I could find something interesting. Sir, I have to know more about the potion in order to give a hand." She knew she had just signed her own peril but her Gryffindor nature would make her act before thinking.

"You really want to know more, Miss Granger? Nobody ever told you to be careful of what you wish for? Perfectly well then, I will tell you." He spat through gritted teeth. Surpassing the desk, he came in front of her, his arms folded on his chest, his figure towering over her threateningly. She didn't know how, but the room seemed to detect his mood as it became gloomier, or maybe it was just his tall persona to darken the soft light coming from some candles.

"This potion has to heal a strong curse. Before you ask, no, I don't know what kind of curse it is, that's why I don't know where to start. All I know is that it is dark and powerful. I know you tried to do some research on your own, it is written all over your face. As soon as you entered the door, you tried to spy what was written on my books. I assure you, Miss Granger, you wouldn't be capable to understand half of the things written there: it is dark and old magic, one that I have barely acquainted myself in years. If you are wondering for which reason you have been called to help me, then I am completely unknown of the motive that led the Headmaster to this... unusual choice. If I had to take a guess, I would say that the man has gone completely crazy and I might not be too wrong in my assumptions." She could see him take a deep breath, his long and drawled speech leaving him strained and worn, his dark eyes staring hers with something that resembled pity.

"Who cast the curse?" He looked at her surprised, his raised eyebrow giving away the unusual emotion. She would not give up. She would not let him win.

"I think I have given you enough information to guess all the rest, Miss Granger, if your so praised reputation has any foundation on truth." He snorted with annoyance while sitting back on his chair.

"Volde..." She realized in a minute, her eyes racing on the wall looking for all the other answers.

"Don't ever say his name in my presence, Miss Granger." He hissed with rage, his eyes flaming with spite.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Who has been cursed?" Her eyes concentrated on his trying to snatch the truth directly from his deep black eyes.

"It is not up to me to tell you that, Miss Granger, I have already said more than I should have." She understood he had closed up again in his buttoned up personality and that she would not be able to get more information for that day.

"So what is the next move?" Again, she saw the same look of surprise in his arched eyebrow. She would not let herself get intimidated by his harsh demeanor.

It took him a couple of minutes before answering to her question. "I believe we should keep trying till we get some improvements, or at least till we can." He answered pensively, his fingers caressing each other in a mesmerizing thoughtfulness.

"And when would that be?" She knew she had just pushed her luck.

"What part of do not ask me questions is unclear to you, Miss Granger?" He snapped with annoyance.

"The part in which I cannot ask questions, Sir." She replied with suicidal demeanor. Closing her eyes in despair and damning her impossibility to shut up when needed, she risked a glance at his face, surprised to see what looked like an amused smirk.

"I believed so. I believe I have to find a way to discourage this habit of yours. I can't detract points when we meet here but I can be quite creative." His eyes shined with pure mischief and for once she felt defenseless.

"I believe it is in my right to ask questions about something that has been asked me to do." She replied with as much self-confidence she could muster.

"Has it ever come up in your mind that you might claim rights that don't really belong to you, Miss Granger? You have got rights to help your friends, you have rights to defend and free the elves – even if they make it perfectly clear that they are quite happy with their condition – you have rights to upset my life by imposing me your insufferable presence. Don't you think that maybe you lack some sense of objectiveness?" She blushed furiously at his sarcastic words, though she didn't know if it was for anger or for shame.

"My friends need and seek my help and I'm more than glad to give it to them; I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to find a way to free the House-Elves but as soon as I realized they were happy as they were, I quit the project; Professor Dumbledore asked me to help you, otherwise, Sir, my time would have surely been spent elsewhere." Trying to keep her voice even and her demeanor relaxed, she let out a few breaths to steady herself.

"I just want to do my job right. I'm sorry the Headmaster imposed you my insufferable presence – I can't say I'm quite satisfied myself with this arrangement – but I have been asked to help and that's all I want to do. There is no need to get creative, Sir, you can also just tell me or write me all the most important information I need to know and which task I have to perform. As long as I know that, we can work without uttering a single word." If that was what he wanted, she would grant it to him. It was not like she was particularly pleased of talking with him, if she could void it, she would welcome it with open arms. He looked at her in enraged disbelief.

"Miss Granger, I might not be your professor in this room at the moment, but your insolence is not tolerated in any case for I remain your superior even in this circumstance. Half an hour has gone wasted due to your unrestrained curiosity. Clean the cauldron and have it prepared for another potion. We will try to brew something else in the little time we have left." He finished with more calm. Angered at herself for letting him get so much under her skin, she did as she was told as fast as possible. As soon as she was finished, they started The Potion once again. As they used to do in the previous meetings, once again she was reading and he was preparing the ingredients before throwing them in the burning cauldron. Besides her voice echoing the words written on his notes and the bubbling of the fuming cauldron, no other sound was made. She didn't mind it too much: as long as they were not attacking each other, she considered it a great success.

It took them fifteen minutes more than their usual time. She was going to be late for dinner in the Great Hall but she didn't mind it that much. Fascinated by his sinuous hands, she hadn't even noticed that it was 8.15 PM till his deep voice snapped her out of her momentary trance.

"You should be going, Miss Granger, people will notice your absence at dinner. I can finish up here, I then shall send you a note about our next meeting." Ecstatic at the news of being still part of the project, she nodded eagerly. He seemed to notice as his eyes gleamed with an amused and silent smile.

"I can anticipate that I'm quite positive that we will have to meet again in 24 hours. Since the potion had evaporated completely at our last attempt, it might be wise to check the brewing sooner. Anyway, I will send you a note for confirmation as soon as possible." He added while casting a Stasis Charm on the still hot cauldron. Gathering her things more slowly than usual, she prepared herself for leaving. Once again, before she had time to open the door, she heard his voice.

"Miss Granger, shall you feel the need to do some research on your own, I would suggest you to check up in Potions Section, Third Shelf. You may come up with something interesting." She turned around to look at him surprised but his black eyes were so concentrated on the books in front of him that hadn't she known better, she would have thought that she had just hallucinated.

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall had known Albus Dumbledore for so many years that she couldn't actually remember, they had been colleagues for forty years and friends far longer than that. She had thought that she could safely say that she knew Albus but this situation wanted to prove her wrong at every cost and she didn't like it.

Why Dumbledore would want Miss Granger and Severus Snape collaborate on a project that she hardly thought possible by Merlin himself was the mystery of the year. Not only those two were as unmatched as they could get, but what they had in common – being as strong-headed as possible – just made them get further apart.

Sighing tiredly, she poured herself two fingers of Firewisky, she was afraid she would need it that night as she waited for Severus to meet Albus for talking about his latest progressions.

"Come on, Minerva, don't be that preoccupied: Severus and Hermione are two adults who had been collaborating for more than twenty days now. I think that proves how things may actually work." She looked at Albus skeptically as he tried to reassure her. She had never liked the idea of this... bizarre – the least – collaboration and the fact that Hermione had looked quite distracted during her lessons was not helping her relax on the matter.

Just as she was about to pour another inch of welcomed alcohol, Severus entered the room accompanied by his usual billowing cloak and a bang of the door. He looked at her a little surprised as he greeted her with a slight nod.

"Good evening, Severus. How was your afternoon?" He looked at Dumbledore with an amused arched eyebrow as if that question only elicited some funny memories.

"As for the past ten days, I have spent it with Miss Granger trying to achieve the impossible. What about yours, Albus?" He replied with a sarcastic but sincerely amused statement. Minerva was actually quite surprised of that mild reaction, she had truly expected worse, much worse – if she had to be sincere. Albus, for his part, let out a delighted but gentle laugh, as if he had not expected anything else and was quite proud of what he had heard. She needed another drink.

"Mine was good, just some justified tiredness given the situation. So how is your collaboration with Miss Granger going?" He asked with well concealed curiosity.

"The usual: she is stubborn, insufferable, impossible, insolent, bookish, nosy, a mouthy know-it-all that can't keep her hands to herself and I'm afraid the list may go on forever." Severus drawled with a certain annoyance in his voice. Minerva knew in that moment that she had been right from the start: those two were an impossible match.

"I see. And any progress on the potion?" Dumbledore asked without showing any exterior reaction. She would scold him on that foolish senselessness he had been forcing on all of them for a month now as soon as that useless meeting was over. How could he be so blind?

"Nothing relevant. We have brewed four potions so far and none of them had been able to be stable long enough to test it. Today we have started something new but we will be able to see the outcome in twenty four hours but I don't have much hope in this last attempt either." Minerva could almost sense the powerlessness radiating from Severus' voice. Once again, she took another comforting sip from her glass.

"Then we shall update us on the matter tomorrow. Halloween is in a few days and I'm afraid that we should be more careful this year. Tom is getting impatient and Harry is facing... a hard time in controlling his emotions as well. Severus, I would suggest you to keep a special eye on Hermione: shall Harry act irrationally and do something dangerous, she would be the first one to know. We can't let our guards down now... or ever." Severus took a deep and tired breath before hinting a nod and walking out of the room.

"Miss Granger is right on schedule." Minerva hadn't the time to understand those delighted words before a hesitant Miss Granger walked through the door.

"Good evening, Sir... Professor." She smiled hesitantly, her eyes roaming around the room looking for someone in particular that she would not find.

"Good evening, Hermione. How was your afternoon?" Minerva wondered how Dumbledore could repeat that scene again with such naturalness, his eyes showing once again a joyful and fresh smile.

"Good, Sir, thank you." She answered with a hint of wariness in her voice. At least her collaboration with Severus was helping her get rid of some of her naivety.

"It has been a while since our last chat, I just wanted to be sure that everything is fine. How is your collaboration with Professor Snape going?"

"It is going, Sir, I believe that is already some kind of miracle." Minerva gazed the girl with curiosity: her self-confidence had improved as her shyness was tamed.

Dumbledore let out another delighted laugh, even more sincere than the previous one and Minerva couldn't help but wonder what side-affects might have his curse and if they had actually been showing without their knowledge.

"I reckon you may be right, Miss Granger. So is Professor Snape letting you help him? Are there any developments?" The sudden curiosity leaking from the Headmaster's voice had Hermione eyes looking around warily.

"He is... him, Sir, if you know what I mean, even though I have to admit that I had thought this collaboration could go worse." She hinted an amused and self-confident smile, proud of her improved subtlety.

"About developments, we didn't get any important results till now but I'm confident we may get somewhere with the next attempt. We are trying something new, a different approach – you may say – and if it doesn't work, we already have some ideas that could strengthen this new technique." She explained with hopeful and professional assurance.

* * *

As soon as Miss Granger was out, she took other two important sips from her glass. She didn't know why but she had a feeling that events would turn disastrously in no time. Waiting for Albus to agree with her, she heard him sigh wistful as he still looked at the door.

"Mark my words, Minerva: before the year is over, those two will be in love with each other." Looking at her glass suspiciously, she wondered if she hadn't exaggerated with her drink.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! As promised, here is the next chapter. It actually was meant to be longer but something came up. Do not worry! On 31st I will try to post the next chapter: there will be a meddler Dumbledore, some interesting Snape/Hermione interaction and some Halloween goodness! Though, all this depends on you and on some merciful god. Some friends are coming to visit me from abroad, therefore I won't have much time to write but I'm sure that some wonderful reviews may help me do the impossible.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, which belong to JK Rowling. All I have is some time on my hands to write this humble story. Wait. No, not even that.**

* * *

Hermione could not take it anymore: watching the clock, she desperately wanted to get inside and reach Professor Snape's office. It was cold, little drops of frozen rain were reaching her eyes, a creepy fog had made its insistent presence, and she hated Quidditch!

Everybody was shouting with force: the two seekers were fighting with each other to get the Golden Snitch and she wondered how they could see that maddening little ball when she could not even see her hand in front of her face.

Looking around her, she made her decision: giving a last glance at her friends on the Quidditch field, she decided they could win also without her. Clutching her cloak more firmly around her person, she disappeared in the fog to reach Hogwarts main doors.

Rubbing her hands with each other in search of her lost heat, she sped up in order to reach Professor Snape's office.

Smiling amused, she realized how much she had come to appreciate her time spent with Snape. Since he had started calling her Granger for the past few days, she decided she could return him the favor – even if only in her head – to call him Snape.

Magically, they were getting along quite well. He would always snap when she insisted on some curiosities of hers and he would always sneer at her every time he could, as she would always reply in kind when she had the chance. Nonetheless, they had started a curious routine that she believed was welcome to both: she would read all his notes and he would prepare the ingredients. It also happened that when a new idea struck him in the middle of a potion, he would let her finish the brewing. She knew what that meant: he trusted her. He trusted her enough to leave her finish a potion he had started. And Hermione knew to take that as one of the highest praises that Snape could ever do not only to a student, but to any wizard or witch.

* * *

Looking around her to make sure nobody had seen her come down in the dungeons, she took a deep breath before knocking on the heavy wooden door. As always, the door opened with a click a few seconds later to show a busy Professor Snape. She had come to quite enjoy the moment of thrilling anticipation every time she was about to enter the room.

"I thought there was a Quidditch match today: Ravenclaw versus Gryffindors." He snorted in distaste while his eyes were still fixed on his workbench full of dusty books.

"There was... there is but I..." She realized she could not really say that she preferred her late afternoons in his office rather than Gryffindor Quidditch match.

"What? You finally realized that Potter and Weasley don't deserve your time? I didn't know our meetings had benefited you with wisdom, Granger." She could hear the sneer distinctly in his voice and she was about to roll her eyes when he snapped his head up to look at her silent form.

"Cat cut your tongue, Granger?" He drawled with mild sarcasm.

"No, Sir, I would have gladly supported my friends if I didn't have a more urgent matter to deal with." She felt a tiny bit of remorse swell in her chest, still she had to save the world – or so at least she wanted to believe – and Quidditch matches were expendable.

"Very well put indeed, Granger, you are improving your diplomatic skills." He complimented her with no trace of irony or sarcasm in his voice while his hands and eyes were still all focused on his parchments.

Pride swelled in her heart till she realized she had not meant to be diplomatic at all, it just was the truth, but she was so not going to contradict him on a sincere compliment.

"Now do take your place, we have to brew a new potion." He moved a little to make place for her, his hands browsed between his parchments furiously till he came up with one in particular. Nodding silently at it, he moved it in front of her.

"What are we brewing today, Sir?" She rolled up her sleeves: she was always so surprised to see how warm it was in the room. The steam of the cauldron and the lightened up fireplace heated the room up of more than a few degrees. She welcomed it as she remembered the cold and freezing Quidditch field.

"Actually, nothing special: only an Antidote to Common Poisons. I hope it will have an interesting interaction with the potion we brewed yesterday." She read the fine parchment laid on the workbench: it was an easy potion, one that she could easily brew herself without the aid of the ingredients list. For one second, she raised her head focusing her gaze on her professor. He hadn't complained about her company for a while now, as he hadn't underlined the superficiality of her presence. She wondered – surprised at her own eagerness – if he enjoyed her presence as much as she enjoyed his after all. She realized that he was not just bearing her because the Headmaster had imposed her presence to him, but he – if not completely enjoyed it – liked it.

"Where did I lose you, Granger?" He frowned as he stopped the preparation of the cauldron waiting for her to read him the instructions. Shaking her head as to drive out her sudden and strange thoughts and doubts, she cleared her voice before reading out aloud.

"Add one Bezoar to the mortar and crush it into a very fine powder using the pestle." As always, he did as he was told as she observed him catching the opportunity of his concentration on the potion. She understood one thing in that right moment, in the dim light of the fireplace fire and of the mild flame of the cauldron: Severus Snape was not a bad person. She could not tell why exactly that realization hit her as a divine dogma but she just knew.

"Add four measures of the crushed Bezoar and heat to a medium temperature for five seconds." She continued as soon as he was done with her previous instructions. In the past twenty days their relationship had completely changed. She had never hated a teacher and she was actually really proud that she could say that she had never really hated Snape either, even if she came quite near to it some times. She had disliked him, for his sharp and mean sarcasm, for his rude demeanor, for his halo of darkness that never let her trust him completely. Working with him almost every day for the past twenty days had changed her mind, though. First of all, he was a wonderful teacher, she had learnt much more in the past two weeks than in six years during his lessons: if he thought something could be useful, he would not hesitate to explain it to her profusely; he could be patient when he was not too much suspicious and most of all – she admitted with some horror – he had a certain sense of Slytherin humor that made him quite a character. She realized that she had come to respect him, both as a teacher as much as a person.

"Wave your wand and leave to brew for forty minutes." With his usual agility and elegance, he extracted his wand from its cover and waved it on the cauldron.

"Sir, may I ask you something?" She said before she could think. Her diplomatic skills had improved but she could not say the same for her survival instinct.

"Granger, after many years here at Hogwarts I came to the realization that we all have our limits: mine is that of not being able to stop you from asking questions." She smiled sincerely at his well-meant comment, she could see his eyes twinkling with mild amusement.

"Do you think we will be able to succeed in our task?" They had spent entire afternoons discussing new techniques and methods for The Potion but every time they failed, she could see him getting more and more pessimistic.

He took a deep breath before answering, his face concentrated in finding a proper answer.

"You are a... capable young woman, Granger, and I believe it is only fair if before answering your question, I ask you one in return. Do you want me to tell the truth or to lie?" She turned around to look at him completely surprised by that sudden compliment and by that improbable but welcome intimacy. He didn't look at her, pretending to check on the perfectly calm potion but she could see a hint of the shyness on his face behind the dark curtain of hair

"I would prefer if you told me the truth, Sir." She answered with needed tact while she saw his head nodding in understanding as if he had anticipated that answer years before in his mind.

"I had no doubt. Then, Granger, no, I don't believe we will succeed." He raised his head up with a serious but almost gentle expression on his face. His dark eyes seemed to swallow her up as she found herself forgetting her surroundings for a while. None of them moved as the silence and solitude of the room finally permitted them to give in into the temptation of just letting everything fall for a while. They were not able to brew an impossible potion and they let that realization envelope their minds as the world outside was shut down by the safeness of that dark room.

"But nonetheless we can't give up yet and not because I'm positive that a miracle will happen. I'm not easily fired as our Headmaster but the awareness of what will happen if we don't succeed reminds me every day to just keep trying till we have time and possibility." He drawled with a certain fatigue in his voice. His hands brushing his hair back in a sudden movement of restrained anger and impatience.

"Sir?" She asked with some visible insecurity in her voice.

"Why I believe that I'm not going to like what you are about to ask, Granger?" He asked with tiredness, his arms folded across his chest as he went back to his austere persona.

"Perhaps, because you are a better Seer than Professor Trelawney?" She offered tentatively as she saw his eyes narrow in confusion before relaxing in amusement as his lips turned into a light smile.

"I reckon it is not a great compliment: it doesn't take much to exceed Professor Trelawney in the dubious art of Divination. I'm afraid that even Professor Hagrid – if it is even proper to call him such – would be capable of it." He shook his head in barely restrained amusement as she looked at him with a delighted smile under her eyelashes.

"So, Granger, go on and ask but remember that if I'm gentle enough to let you ask me anything, I might not be as much sympathetic to answer." He reminded with seriousness, his gaze fixed on her in an attempt to snatch the question from her eyes before she could actually formulate it.

"May I know what will happen if we can't brew The Potion?" She asked while looking at her hands caressing the smooth surface of the workbench in agitation.

"You know that I can't and I won't answer that question so stop asking me about it day in day out. Next time you may not receive a similar kind answer." He replied with his usual stiffness. She clenched her fists in anger but didn't say anything. She knew that that question was a sore spot for him but she surely would not give up asking him day in day out till she would succeed in her intent.

"Tomorrow is Halloween. You are free not to be present to our daily meeting." He drawled with no emotion as his back straightened up in cold disappointment. They faced that kind of situation every time she dared ask him something more about their mysterious project and every time she would find him in a better mood the next day.

"Actually, Sir, I would prefer to come here and help you, if you don't mind." She said hesitantly, checking his reaction under her eyelashes.

"You would miss part of the Halloween Feast and your presence is not required anyway, I'm sure I will be more than capable to survive one afternoon without you, Granger." If he had started his answer with some surprised insecurity in his voice, he ended it with suspicious distrust. Rolling her eyes at his sudden and usual change of mood, she tried to find a proper answer.

"I am more than sure of that, Sir, and I had no intention of imposing my presence if it is unwanted, I merely thought that the Halloween Feast is another one of those things that can be expendable given the peculiar circumstances." Holding her breath in anticipation of his answer, she saw him sighing deeply with some resignation before looking at her with what looked like immense patience.

"Shall you find yourself free of your duties and shall you feel the desire to check up on our potion, you may come by for a while before dinner." She quickly suppressed the smile of victory that was about to blossom on her lips.

* * *

"This is really not fair." Ron was complaining completely bored while scribbling something useless on his parchment.

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she read about some nasty potion she could not completely grasp.

"It is Halloween! And we are here studying instead of doing anything else. Hogsmead trips have been canceled but it doesn't mean we can't have some fun in the castle, too." Hermione and Harry raised their heads up in confusion as soon as they had finished writing some notes on their parchments.

"And we will have fun, tonight. But now it is 3.00 PM, we have all the time in the world to finish our homework and have fun later." Harry replied as his eyes got caught up again on his book.

"Mate, what happened to you? Since when you study in the library, at 3.00 PM in the afternoon on Halloween? Please, tell me you were cursed!" Hermione realized with some amusement that she had never seen Ron more desperate than in that moment: his eyes were comically gouged out as his voice became more and more shrieking.

"I just think we should do our homework, Ron, and maybe even more than just that. It is not exactly an easy time, we can't let our guard down just now." She noticed that Harry's voice had a shade of annoyance as his eyes got distracted once again from his books with some difficulty.

"Listen to you, mate, you sound like Dumbledore and you act like a... obsessive Hermione. All you do is read that stupid book night and day, you even sleep with it, and Hermione disappears every afternoon Merlin knows where, so I believe I'm not being unreasonable when I say that I feel myself left out." He snapped with shy anger as his cheeks became red.

"I don't disappear anywhere, I just go to study in the library, that's all. And what all this fuss about that book?" She had learnt by spending time with Snape that changing the topic was always the best way to avoid a sore question.

"It's Harry's Potions book, he is completely obsessed with it." Ron answered with resignation as she took a peek at the infamous book. It was worn and used, the pages looked wrinkled from the continuous use, and a series of notes were scribbled everywhere on the borders. Something caught her eye as she tried to decipher what was written.

"Whose is it?" She asked with restrained alarm in her voice.

"I don't know, it is written it is the property of the Half-Blood Prince but I have got no clue who it is." Harry answered with casualness as she snapped the book from his hands. She read a couple of notes before turning to the first page to check the name. She could not mistake that hand-writing in a thousand years after the past month.

"That's why your grade got so much better in the last few months, it is all written here, every tips and tricks." She said bewildered.

"Whoever this bloke was, he must have been a wonderful Potions student. He even outdoes the book, Hermione, and I believe he is the creator of some interesting spells and jinxes, too. I tried to discover out who he is but I had no luck." His eyes were shining with something akin to admiration.

"I'm sure he was." She replied distracted as she skimmed the pages with interest. "How did you get it?" Snape would never have given his book to Harry.

"Professor Slughorn loaned it to me on his first lesson since I didn't know I could take Potions. It has been a windfall, really." She looked at his gleaming eyes with some sense of jealousy. If someone deserved that book, it was her. She worked with Snape every day, side by side, it was not fair that Harry had his book.

"Really? Anyway I have got to go. I will see you later, alright?" She closed her books in a rush as she tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in her chest.

Getting out of the library, she decided she would wait till 5.00 PM before paying Professor Snape a visit.

* * *

She had been pacing in front of his office for a good ten minutes. She knew she couldn't hang in front of the door, but every sense of caution and wariness had left her since her latest discovery. Had Snape given the textbook to Professor Slughorn so that Harry could receive it? It was the remotest possibility she could think of: Snape was trusted by the Headmaster and therefore – as she had seen with her own eyes, after all – he was one of the good guys, nevertheless he and Harry had never gotten along.

Having spent too much time with her Potions Master, she could not even believe that Harry had got that book out of sheer luck. It was impossible that it had all been a coincidence. Besides, Snape was quite jealous of his possessions.

Making up her mind, she decided that the best way to know the truth was to ask for the truth so she knocked hastily on the wooden door waiting for the usual silent click. It took a little longer than usual as if she could sense that he had opened the door dubiously.

Entering inside, she saw him standing beside his workbench, his posture stiff and straight as he waited for the intruder to come in. As soon as he saw her, his expression of suspicion turned into one of mild curiosity.

"I was expecting you in a few hours." He stated with a certain lameness that cracked his usual sureness. Suddenly, she found herself speechless.

"Me, too, actually." She murmured with barely concealed embarrassment.

"So I believe you changed your mind about tonight after all. As I told you, Granger, you are free to attend the Halloween Feast, I know it may look unbelievable to you, but I can brew as well on my own." He snorted with sarcasm as he concentrated his gaze on some parchments once again.

"And I know it may look unbelievable to you, Sir, but I never doubted that." She affirmed with relaxed amusement: she had become used to his pointy wit and strangely, she had kind of come to appreciate it.

"Therefore what are you still doing here?" He looked at her once again, forgetting his parchments. She wondered how he was able to read in the darkness of the room lit only by the dim light of the fireplace.

"Actually I would like to ask you a few questions, Sir, if you don't mind." His stiffness became evident once again as his eyebrow raised and his hands clenched at his sides.

"If I were you, I would think about it twice before you pronounce your next sentence." He warned her with his colder tone as his eyes became darker with restrained anger. She swallowed nervously before taking a step forward and trying her fortune.

"I have to admit that I find myself in some difficulty in expressing my sincere curiosity." She admitted as she could feel sweat pool in her hands.

"And I have to admit that those words would have even the Dark Lord run away. I never thought you could be scary, Granger, but I believe that I have to re-think myself in this right moment. Perhaps, we have finally found the final weapon." He sneered with a vague amusement. She chuckled nervously.

"Sir, I have come to know that Harry has come in possession of your copy of Advanced Potion-Making. I was merely wondering if you had wanted Harry to have it or if it was merely a fluke." Even in the dim light of the room, she could see his jaw clenching furiously at the given information.

"Are you trying to make a fool out of me, Miss Granger?" She looked at him scared as she saw his towering and dark figure advance upon her. She tried to keep her ground but when he came so near that she could actually feel his chest touching hers, she backed away lightly.

"I would never dream of it, Sir, I have a great respect for you, so much that I expressed my mere curiosity about this coincidence. I read a few notes to the margins and they are simply brilliant." Had she been been in front of the Dark Lord himself, she would have feared less for her life.

"I don't need your approval, Miss Granger, I'm quite aware of my value. I have certainly not lent Harry Potter my book and I might even think you have been the one to take it in my office, if I thought you were that daft – which I find myself to believe right now." He advanced once again as she found herself mesmerized by the swallowing depth of his eyes. She almost could feel his mind trying to break into hers and she was sure she had never been more disappointed in her life.

"Sir!" She exclaimed hurt as she tried to close her eyes but his hands clenched her face with strength and she found herself enthralled by his penetrating gaze.

Releasing her with gentleness, she could almost see a crumb of guilt pool in his eyes as he retreated back behind his desk. Before either of them could say another word, she opened the door and closed it behind her with force. She was finished with the project and Professor Snape. Shaking her head in disbelief, she took the stairways to reach Professor McGonagall's office: as soon as she informed the Headmaster of her decision, she would be completely over with that madness.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/U: I know I have not replied to your reviews yet but I have just finished the seventh chapter now and I thought to post it as soon as possible. I promise you that tomorrow I will also reply to your reviews!**

* * *

She knocked on the door of the first floor office just a while later. Checking the clock once again, she noticed it was 6.30 PM in the afternoon. She hoped Professor McGonagall hadn't already gone to check on her students before the Halloween Feast started. A few seconds later, the door opened to show a confused Professor McGonagall, her teaching robes wrapped around her in her usual austere demeanor.

"Good evening, Professor, may I come in?" She saw as her Professor confused expression turned into one of mild curiosity as she moved aside to let her in.

"Is everything alright, Miss Granger?" She stifled a sad chuckle as the sudden oddness that even her Head of House would call her with such formality came in her mind. Snape had started calling her with just her surname. She had been ecstatic the first time, she knew he didn't concede even that tiny intimacy very easily. Strangely enough, she realized in that right moment that she would miss their collaboration.

"Yes, ma'am, I just would like to talk with the Headmaster, if it is possible." She thought she had heard a silent sigh as she looked at the lighted fireplace.

"Of course. Is it urgent? We could use the Floo if it is so." She felt her demanding gaze on her in the dim light of the room.

"I... not really, but I wouldn't mind talking with him as soon as possible." She replied with some uncertainty as she tried to organize the speech in her head.

"If I may ask, has something happened with Professor Snape?" She looked up at her surprised.

"I... no, I just think that our collaboration isn't... beneficial as I thought – as we thought – it might." She explained carefully. She didn't want to blame Professor Snape. Against her previous believes, they didn't get along.

"I see. I can't say I didn't see it coming. Very well, then, it would be good to inform the Headmaster soon." She took a handful of powder before nearing the fireplace. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that she was doing the right thing, she called out the Headmaster's office.

* * *

Once inside, she looked around in search of the Headmaster. As per usual he was sitting on his chair behind his desk scribbling on some parchments, his right hand scratching his long beard absent-mindedly. Was the light or was his hand strangely violaceous? Her curiosity was interrupted by the arrival of her Head of House.

"Good evening, Miss Granger, it is nice to see you again in such a short while. May I ask what brings you here?" Suddenly feeling unsure as the eyes of her two Professors were fixed on her expectantly, she struggled to find the right words.

"Good evening, Sir. I... I would like to speak to you about my collaboration with Professor Snape." she said finally as the Headmaster looked at her Head of House in sudden confusion.

"Of course. Please, take a seat. Would you like some Halloween goodness? I heard they are quite delicious this year." Regaining his composure once again, he smiled at her with his usual fatherly kindness.

"No, thank you, Sir, I wouldn't want to ruin my appetite for tonight Feast." She replied as she sat on the chair across the desk with a slight sense of wariness. She realized with some sad amusement that she had spent too much time with Professor Snape.

"Of course. Minerva, I believe it is time to start the Halloween Feast. Would you mind checking that everything is in order? I will come shortly after you." She saw her Head of House nodding suspiciously before disappearing through the Floo once again.

"Sir, I believe my collaboration with Professor Snape has come to an end. I'm really sorry that I couldn't help you but I believe it is for the best." She didn't believe it even as she said it. She had loved – because, yes, she had loved – her time spent with Professor Snape. She had learnt so much in the past month that she didn't want to think about all the knowledge she would miss once she interrupted her collaboration. However, she had no other choice.

"May I know what the reason is, Hermione?" He asked gently while clapping his hands on his lap. Her alertness rang inside her once again at the sudden use of her name.

"I... just think we can't work through our differences, we can't reach a compromise." Still now, she couldn't tell who had been wrong and who had been right. She had let her curiosity overwhelm her, as he had had his mistrust take control over him. Maybe, they both had been wrong and right.

"I see. Has Professor Snape done something to you, Hermione?" Her eyes buzzed out in fear she had not expressed herself well.

"No, he didn't harm me." She rushed to explain even though it was difficult to do so without lying. He had hurt her, emotionally and physically, he had forced his mind on hers but still, he had not really harmed her.

"Do I perceive some doubts in that statement?" Even the Headmaster looked dubious and uncertain in front of her sudden insecurity.

"Sir, I believe we have both let our emotions take control of us but nobody got hurt." Hadn't the situation been dramatic, she would have laughed in front of his expression of incredulity.

"Excuse me, Hermione, but I find myself quite unwilling to believe to such a scene. You are both two of the most... controlled persons I have ever met." He stated with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, yes, but I guess we are both... hard-headed. The fact is, Sir, that I may have let my typical curiosity get the better of me and Professor Snape may not have appreciated it." She explained with some difficulty, trying to avoid a stubborn blush to blossom on her cheeks.

"May I know, Hermione, what kind of curiosity?" He leaned on the desk looking at her. She sighed defeated realizing that the best way to get out of that situation was to tell the truth in the end.

"I have come to know that Harry has the copy of Advanced Potion-Making of Professor Snape. I thought that maybe he had wanted him to have it, therefore I asked him but it was not a wise idea. He actually thought that I may have been the one to steal it from his office. I denied it, of course, because it is not true but my word would not suffice so he decided to... have a look at my memories." She said in a rush looking at her hands battling with each other. When she glanced up, she saw the face of the Headmaster turn first into one of confusion, then into one of mild anger, and in the end into of amusement.

"I see. First of all, let me tell you that what he has done is... unwarrented and wrong, the least. I will make sure to speak to him later about it..." He started with some carefulness.

"No, Sir, I would really appreciate if you didn't tell him that I told you. I guess we have both made a mistake." She added with some insecurity.

"Very well then, I accept your decision. However, I would suggest you to reconsider your choice to interrupt your collaboration with Professor Snape. I know his behavior has been... rude, and I'm sure he regrets it, too. But I believe it wouldn't be wise to end your collaboration with him, I'm sure that in due time it will give its fruits." He affirmed diplomatically.

"Sir, I don't think he would want our collaboration to continue." She was surprised to hear her voice have a shade of melancholy at that statement.

He sighed tiredly before replying: "I believe it is time for you to know a few things about Professor Snape. You are seventeen years old now, right?" She knew he was quite aware of her age, nevertheless she nodded in confusion.

"From now on, Miss Granger, you can consider yourself a full member of the Order of Phoenix. Alright, I believe this circumstance calls for a drink. Would you like to share a Firewhisky with me?" She nodded dumbfounded as her hand raised to take the glass on its own will. He got up as if he had been too restless to seat on his chair. He nodded to himself as if he had finally come to the final decision.

"Miss Granger, do you know Professor Snape is, as most of the teaching staff, a member of the Order?" He asked as he took a careful sip from his glass, his eyes looking over the border to check her reaction.

"Yes, Sir, I'm full aware of that, I have known for a while that he works for the Order, even though I'm not quite sure what his charge is." She looked at her glass with a dubious glance before drinking a sip of the old Firewhisky. She heard him breathe a resigned sigh before emptying his glass.

"What I'm about to tell you, Miss Granger, is under Fidelius Charm. This means that nobody but me – and the people I choose to reveal it to– knows about it. Only a few members of the Order are aware of this information and I hope you will respect my secrecy." He looked at her meaningfully before speaking once again.

"As I am sure you well know, Professor Snape was a Death-Eater a long time ago and, in a certain sense, he still is. He has been a member of the Order for almost twenty years now. He is a double-agent, Miss Granger, which means that he pretends to spy me and the Order on behalf of Tom when he actually spies Tom for me. It is a very dangerous game that could be given away in a moment of uncarefulness. That's the reason why I prefer this information to remain confidential between a restricted number of people." He nodded waiting for her to do the same as she took another gulp of her strong drink.

"I... I had no idea. We thought... I mean, Harry saw Professor Snape talking to Karkaroff last year and he always prefers Mr Malfoy, whose father is clearly a known Death-Eater, but then we saw him at a Order meeting and we were so confused, but now everything..." She stopped as she recalled all the ambiguous events that had concerned Professor Snape with the Order and the Death-Eaters.

"Why? Why was he a Death-Eater to begin with? And how did he become a member of the Order later?" She let her curiosity take control over her once again as her eyes gleamed in search of an answer.

"I believe it is not up to me to give away such a personal information, Miss Granger." He affirmed with severe stiffness.

"Sir, why... why did you inform me of this?" She asked confused as she realized that her drink had made her bolder than she usually was.

"For more than a reason, Miss Granger: I wanted you to trust Professor Snape and I wanted you to understand his difficult position. As you can well imagine, dealing with Tom is not an easy task: he may actually need some sincere help after the... meetings. He refuses categorically to be checked by Madam Pomfrey and I'm afraid I cannot push him in that sense. Nevertheless, I live in the hope that a more familiar face could keep an eye on him." Hermione didn't know which information was more difficult to digest: if the thought of Professor Snape risking his life every time he had to meet Voldemort, or the the Headmaster's wrong belief to consider her a familiar face for Professor Snape.

"How many times does he have to... attend these meetings, Sir?" How many times did he risk his life? How many times did he come back from those meetings hurt?

"I'm afraid that the number of the meetings has drastically increased in the last month. I believe Tom is trying to accelerate the downfall of Hogwarts as a school as well as a reference point for Harry." He sighed with tiredness as he walked around the desk to stand right beside her. "I believe I have to be completely truthful about the situation, Hermione: I have no power to foresee the future and by revealing you these latest information I don't know how much damage I may create or how much a wise decision it could actually be. I don't want to burden you with something that you may not feel capable of facing, therefore I would like to underline that you don't have to feel obliged to help in such matters." He finished labored as the weight of the powerlessness made him look strangely weaker, older... diseased.

"Sir, you can't expect me to just sit tight and do nothing while... while all those things happen and..." She tried to find the right words to express the sudden urge to be of help in a helpless situation. "I know I can't be of great help. I know I can't stop Voldemort from his mad plan to destroy Hogwarts and all the students with it as well as I can't prevent Professor Snape from being a double-agent spy, for otherwise we wouldn't receive important information that may help us defeat Voldemort for good. And I hate it!" She realized with sudden anger. "I hate it so much that everything is so unfair! I hate that Harry has to be the target of a madman for the simple fact that he was born in July, I hate that Professor Snape has had to risk his life for twenty years, I hate that... I just hate it all." She said in the end as she realized that her voice was as much strained as Dumbledore's when he had expressed his powerlessness a minute earlier.

"But, Sir, I... I will try. All that I can do, I will do it. Until the downfall of Voldemort, I will work for the Order and for its cause." She admitted with renewed boldness.

"I have made many mistakes in my life, Hermione, and many times I have failed people I care about but I couldn't be prouder of how you, Harry and Ron have grown up." He almost looked moved as he nodded once again to himself before approaching the Floo.

"I believe it is time for us to enjoy this wonderful evening, what do you think? Oh, before I forget, shall you decide to patrol the ground-floor tonight, I'm sure you will find your walk quite fruitful." She didn't have time to ask him about the meaning of those words that she was pushed in the green halo of the Floo powder.

* * *

She found herself once again in the Gryffindor common room. Everybody had already gone to the Feast and she took the opportunity to lean on the stoned wall to catch her breath. Professor Snape was still a Death-Eater and he was also a member of the Order. He had to endure all the craziness that Voldemort came up with. Realizing just now the meaning of that statement, she wondered if not only he had to bear what Voldemort wanted to do to him, but also what Voldemort wanted him to do. He couldn't have been a trusted Death-Eater without acting as one.

Down the same line of thought, she wondered astonished if he had had anything to do with the Muggle-Borns massacres of the last months. Trying to recover herself from the sudden shiver that ran down her body, she neared her room to change for the Feast, suddenly feeling less courageous about her plan to help her Professor.

Entering the Great Hall, she was faced with the usual greatness and pompousness of the Halloween Feast: right in front of the High Table, a big ghosts orchestra was playing some solemn music; giant pumpkins were scattered everywhere around the room containing sweets, fruits and even harmless tricks and pranks; and the usual ghosts staff of Hogwarts was telling horror tales at every table. Looking around the room in search of her friends, she found them talking secretively behind some columns. She risked a glance at the High Table looking for her Potions Professor but he was nowhere to be seen while all the other Professors were already gathered behind the long table.

She didn't have time to reach her friends when the Headmaster appeared with his usual grandness in such formal occasions. Every professor and student took their seat as the music stopped playing, leaving the prominent spot to Dumbledore.

She rushed towards her friends, ignoring the first words that echoed through the room. Never before, she had cared less for the Halloween Feast and the usual optimistic speech of the Headmaster. Her friends greeted her with a silent nod as they too ignored the rumbling voice of Dumbledore.

"Hermione, where were you? We have been looking for you for half an hour!" Harry hissed as he looked at her suspiciously.

"I... I was in my room, I was changing. What happened?" She had made a promise to keep her meeting with her Potions Professor a secret and she meant to keep it, even if it cost her a lot not confide in her friends.

"We were looking for you when we heard Dumbledore and Snape talking in a classroom on the first floor. We had not intention of overhearing, really, it just happened. The door was ajar and they were whispering so that caught our attention. We didn't hear much and I think they were talking in code but I believe Snape talked about a possible massacre tonight, but I am not entirely sure. The strangest thing, though, is that we heard him say your name." His eyes were fixed on her trying to decipher her reaction.

"My name? What did he say about me?" She tried to clean her voice from every shade of alarm and she was grateful that a loud roar of voices and hands clasping distracted them all for a few minutes.

"We could not hear well, besides in that moment they kind of caught us overhearing so we had to rush back down and that's when we met you." She had asked Professor Dumbledore not to tell anything to Snape and he had promised her that he would not. Had he lied?

"Maybe you heard wrong, there is no reason for Professor Snape to talk about me with the Headmaster." But Harry didn't look convinced at all as she was afraid that her fake disinterest in that matter may have given something away.

Luckly, they didn't have time to dwell on it more for the first courses were being served. Giving one last glance at the High Table, she noticed that Snape's seat was still empty.

* * *

She had been impatient all night: for the first time since her years at Hogwarts, she had wanted the Halloween Feast to end as soon as possible. It had lasted over three hours and she was afraid she didn't have much time left for her patrol. She had followed Professor Dumbledore's enigmatic suggestion and she had been patrolling the ground-floor for a good ten minutes now but nothing had happened so far. She actually felt kind of stupid pacing back and forth in the same hallway, hoping nobody had seen her.

She looked at the clock that struck 11.00 PM. Taking a deep breath and deciding that she had lost a precious half hour of sleep and she had not even enjoyed the Feast, she was about to turn around and take the stairs to get back to the Gryffindor Tower when the heavy doors of the castle opened to show a dark figure in the dim light of the late hour.

Narrowing her eyes to see better, she could almost make out the tall figure of Snape closing back the doors with some difficulty. Without really being conscious of it, she moved a few steps forward to be sure of her assumptions. Her steps must have given her away for the tall dark figure turned around alarmingly to check for the intruder. Even though he had been slow in entering the castle and closing the doors behind him, he found back all his agility to extract his wand from his sleeve to point it at her with a barely whispered Lumos.

"I thought this day could not go worse but I must have been mistaken." He hissed half-way between pain and annoyance. He lowered his wand with stiffness as the light kept illuminating dimly the deserted hallway.

"Sir, are you alright?" Ignoring his scowl, she took a few steps forward as she saw his hand clutching his side in a sudden painful twinge.

"Sir!" She said a little bit louder as she quickly closed the distance between them, uncertain about what to do.

"I'm fine, Granger, go back to your dorm, we will talk about our project tomorrow." He strained between his clenched teeth as he tried to straight himself up unsuccessfully.

"Sir, you are not fine, you are hurt, we should... call Madam Pomfrey or the Headmaster." She ignored his sudden deathly scowl as she lifted a hand to support him in some way.

"I really don't think so. I have been informed of your chat with the Headmaster this afternoon therefore I'm sure you know that _this_ is usual for me. Go back to your dorm and let me retire to my chambers." The effect of what were meant to be harsh words was dulled by another grimace of pain that crossed his pallid face.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't let you do that." Her courageous statement gained her another – more effective this time – scowl of pure spite and anger. She backed away slightly as his strenght made a brief appearance as he tried to scroll her hand from his shoulder forcefully. It had been an incautious maneuver, though, for it cost him another more forceful twinge. He hissed in pain as his legs gave out slightly before he could try to regain his usual composure with little success.

"Please, Granger, go away." He pleaded in a silent whisper as he laid his hurt side on the stoned wall.

She was about to back away and turn back to her room, completely taken aback by that desperate supplication. Recalling the Headmaster's words once again, though, she realized she could not back away that easily. Taking a deep breath as she decided her fate, she closed the distance between them once again. His eyes were closed as he tried to normalize his labored breath and for the second time that afternoon, Hermione found herself feeling sympathy for her Professor.

He hadn't heard her as she silently moved to grab his hand. He opened his eyes alarmingly as he had completely forgotten her presence. He just looked at her merely surprised as she pulled his arm on her shoulders for support. Ignoring his insistent glance on her figure as she started walking slowly to take him back to his dungeons, she heard him mutter a whispered "no" before directing her in another direction. It took her a while to understand they were taking a hidden passageway to get to his chambers: she had been so preoccupied about his health that her eyes had stayed fixed on his clutched side for most of the time. Suddenly, she found herself in front of a tiny wooden door. He opened it whispering what could have been a password as well as a spell. She didn't care as she felt simply relieved that they had reached his chambers and she could let him seat somewhere.

Once inside, she cast a silent spell to turn the lights on since Snape seemed to be on the verge of uncosciousness and she couldn't tell a thing in the dim light of the room. As the room got clearer, she remained astonished by her surroundings. Recovering quickly as she heard a painful gasp, she grabbed his side more forcefully till they reached the couch a few steps further on the left. She let him fall carefully on it as she tried to think about what to do next.

"Sir?" She asked tentatively but the only answer she got was a semi-conscious grunt. Clenching her eyes in an effort to think about the next move, she found herself undecided between calling the Headmaster and dealing with the problem herself.

She gave a look around at the room, trying to find something that could be useful. She spotted a see-through cabinet full of potions that covered the wall right in front of her completely and decided to start from there.

"Sir, would you like for me to call the Headmaster?" she knelt in front of the couch as she tried to assert the gravity of the situation by looking at his still clutched side.

"No, thank you for your help, but you can go now." He muttered in a tone that indicated that he was actually not grateful at all. Trying to suppress the need to roll her eyes as it often happened in his company, she decided to over-pass the little coffee table that prevented her from reaching the cabinet.

Praying that he would not be completely mad the next day, she borrowed a vial of Pepperup Potion and hoped that she had guessed right.

"Sir, can you open your mouth, please?" She knew she was just doing what had to be done but she couldn't help blushing furiously at her own request. He seemed to think the same for he opened one eye dubiously.

"What is it?" He asked suspiciously as his eyes closed again and his body tried to settle on the couch in the best way possible.

"Pepperup Potion, Sir." Breathing deeply and resigned at her unwanted attentions, he opened his mouth slightly. Ignoring her trembling hand, she took a deep breath herself and poured the content of the vial in his mouth. As he swallowed the potion, his eyes shot open in pain as his legs and torso were moved by a strong tremor. Scared by his sudden reaction, she jolted back of a few steps as she wondered if she had done something wrong.

After what looked the longest couple of minutes of her life, his tremor stopped and his breath, though shallow and pained, went back to normal.

"Sir? I'm afraid I will have to call the Headmaster..." She looked around her alarmed as she tried to think of a way to get the Headmaster as soon as possible. "Damn it!" she muttered under a breath as she was destabilized by the unknown surroundings, she didn't even know the way back to the first floor.

"Don't call the Headmaster!" He hissed with a labored breath as his hands shot again to clutch his pained side. "It is just the after effects of a nasty curse and of... some broken ribs, too, I'm afraid." He moved on his back as he tried to find the most comfortable position.

"Sir, I don't know what to do." She admitted defeated as she cursed herself for not being able to remain rational. She took another deep breath and decided that first thing first she had to understand what the problem was. He was visibly better already, well, at least he looked more conscious than before as his eyes stayed open.

"There is nothing you can do." He replied dryly as another light tremor seemed to go through his body.

Not truly convinced by his words, she neared him once again, ignoring his suspicious glance and his once again labored breath, even though she couldn't tell if it was for her unwanted proximity or for another jolt of pain.

Trying to recall every time she had witnessed Madam Pomfrey cure somebody, she took his hand hesitantly and moved it aside.

"Granger" She was sure he had meant that only word as a warning but it came out barely more than a worried whisper. She didn't acknowledge it as she unbuttoned his outer robes to check on his wounded side. His hand grasped hers before she could reach the last buttons but she was able to shake it off easily.

"Sir, let me help you." She didn't even look at him to check if her words had had any sort of reaction as she moved his shirt up in search of his wound. Even if she didn't see it, she could feel his gaze on her as he waited on her reaction. She tried to stifle a gasp of surprise as she could almost make out the outline of his broken ribs in the dim light of the room. His right side was swollen and of a color she thought she had never seen before in her entire life. It was a mixture of yellow, blue, violet spots that mixed each other in a monstrous outcome.

"These ribs have to be mended now, Sir." She said in a serious and firm voice that surprised even her as she brought her eyes to look at him.

"I have noticed it myself, Granger, as usual your obviousness is bewildering. However, I can't do that just yet." He spat with difficulty as he tried to regain his breath after that little effort.

"Why not?" She replied confused as she passed her fingers lightly on his side, mesmerized by the purplish shape of his wound.

"Because it would not interact well with the after-shocks of a Cruciatus." She looked up at him surprised as the meanings of what he had said downed on her numb mind and all of a sudden all his symptoms made sense.

"How much do we have to wait?" She was about to ask to call for the Headmaster once again but she re-thought herself realizing the futility of the attempt.

"A couple of hours" He replied stiffly as once again his body was moved by another sharp tremor.

"There is no way we can alleviate the effects sooner?" He just shook his head as his jaws clenched painfully.

She started pacing the room back and forth in search of a solution. She could not call the Headmaster or Madam Pomfrey and, after all, they could not be useful anyway. The Cruciatus had no cure for it created a pain that did not exist. It didn't hurt something, it just made it hurt without a cause behind it. The nerves would feel a pain that was actually never inflicted. They could not cure what was not real.

Risking a glance at him again, she saw that though his eyes were closed in what looked like a peaceful sleep, his breath was labored and his knuckles white from clenching painfully the soft side of the couch.

How could she alleviate a pain that attacked nerves but was not really there?

Well, it was not scientific and it was not magical, but it could work, she could try at least. She neared him once again as she tried the best way to explain such innovative approach to a long time wizard who, further more, happened to be Snape.

"Sir? I may have an idea." She said softly as she waited for a reaction.

"Is it not enough the pain I am in? Granger, go back to your room, please, you should not be here even if the Headmaster is really trying to make my life more maddening than it already is." He coughed painfully as his symptoms seemed to aggravate once again.

"I'm quite sure it won't hurt. It is an attempt, if it doesn't work I promise I will go away and I won't come back. I will talk to the Headmaster first thing in the morning and you won't have to bear me any longer." His eyes shot open at that alluring statement and his head nodded lightly to give her permission.

Hermione realized that the reason for which he may have accepted was that he was not fully conscious of what was happening.

Nearing the couch with sudden shyness, she tried to steady her hands before attempting to touch his body.

"I'm going to... touch you, Sir, to massage you. You just lie down quietly and... relax." Her cheeks blushed furiously as his confused eyes were once again looking for her face. Before he could say anything and before she could regret her idea, she touched his legs tentatively. Without uncovering his skin, she messaged his calf over his pants. At first, she was just too embarassed to raise her eyes to check his reaction but after a couple of minutes had passed and she had not heard a complain yet, she risked a glance at his face to see his eyes closed in what looked like a... relaxed expression.

She got bolder by that positive outcome and she kept caressing his skin further up on his thighs. Her eyes remained fixed on his to check on his reaction. His eyes snapped open as her hands grazed his inner thighs and she withdrew her hands quickly as she backed on his knees once again. His tremors stopped as she could almost hear a soft grunt of... pleasure.

"The tremors are gone." He announced stiffly after a while as she breathed once again. She hadn't realized she had kept her breath for the all time.

She extracted her wand from her pocket and pointed it at his broken ribs. His eyes bulged out comically as he put his hands in front of his hurt side.

"What are you doing, Granger?" He asked alarmed.

"Trying to mend your ribs, Sir." She replied confused without really lowering her wand.

"I don't think it is a really wise idea." He affirmed dubiously but before he could talk her out of it, she pointed her wand at his ribs and whispered a Brachium Emendo as she put all her concentration on the task at hand. A flash of white light radiated from her wand as she heard a pained hiss coming from her professor. Even though she had done that healing spell more times than she could remember, she was still afraid that something could have gone wrong. Looking at his furious gaze, though, she reassured herself she had done well.

"I think I told you that it was not a wise idea, Granger!" He scowled with rage as he got up once again. He was able to tower over her with his threatening figure for a couple of seconds before his effort took all his restored energies once again and he had to lower down on the couch.

"I have done this spell many times before, Sir, and I knew I could do it but I also knew you wouldn't believe me." She replied softly and then added a whispered "I'm sorry." before backing away quickly from the couch. He took a resigned breath as he let his head fall on the backrest of the couch.

"I believe it is time for me to go." She added after a while as she realized that it must have been early morning by then.

"I... You can use the Floo connection if you want." He affirmed stiffly as she was about to take her leave. She turned around surprised but accepted his request before he could change his mind.

He sat up slowly as he tried to find a balance on his still sensitive legs. As soon as he had made sure he could take a few steps, he walked around the coffee table to reach a jar placed on his desk. He handed it to her as they walked on the other part of the room where she hadn't noticed that there was another door, bigger and taller. She looked at it surprised as she realized that it must have been the main door to his chambers, the one connected with his office.

Taking the opportunity to give one last glance at the room, her eyes were attracted by the wonderful view of the Forbidden Forest that she could see through the three giant windows on her left side. Before she could inspect her surroundings more, she was called back to reality as he cleared his throat meaningfully. Blushing slightly for she had been caught in one of her curious moments, she took a handful of powder before facing the fireplace.

When she had already pronounced her destination, in those few seconds before she was taken to her room, she heard his voice state: "And Granger, you have no reason to be jealous of Potter." She looked at him surprised and she could almost tell the slightest blush on his cheeks in the dim light of the room. She didn't have time to inquire more when she was taken back to her Gryffindor Tower in a halo of greenish light.


	8. Chapter 8

She had been lucky that the next morning had been a Saturday. She had woken up at 12:00 when the clock had chimed joyously. She had opened her eyes tentatively and commanded the curtains to close before taking another five minutes to wake up fully. When she had reached the common room, everybody had already been out. She had changed quickly before reaching the Great Hall for lunch.

And that was what she was doing then, descending the stairs slowly as she tried to think about a plausible excuse for her morning absence. She could always hope that her friends had gone to bed early the previous night and wouldn't investigate her absence further.

Taking a couple of deep breaths as she waited for a stairway to turn, she recalled the events of the previous evening. At the mere thought, she could feel her cheeks color. She had touched Professor Snape. It had been a medical touch but still, she couldn't take her mind off it. He had let her touch him.

For six years she had been able to conquer the approval of every professor but Snape. For six years she had waved her hand furiously in his classes and he had rejected her at every turn. It had been maddening until she had decided to simply give up. Everybody had limits and hers was that she would never be able to get Professor Snape's approval.

When she had finally given up, the Headmaster had called her for that still mysterious project. Now she knew more than any other student about Snape and she was the secret-keeper of one the most confidential pieces of information in all of Hogwarts.

Prompting her enthusiasm to calm down, she realized she didn't only know more about Snape than anybody else but he trusted her enough to let her take him to his private chambers and to let her touch him. Pride swelled in her chest at the memory of the previous night.

Blushing furiously, she recalled his last words. She had always thought that Legilimency could enable the mind-reader to see some memories, and she had been most surprised when she had realized that it could also make feel or at least perceive the emotions felt in the memories. She had been jealous of Harry, for his proximity to Snape's thoughts. He had read his notes and his spells and she had felt betrayed, somehow. Snape had not only seen her conversation with Harry but also what she had felt during that conversation.

And he had told her that she had no reason to be jealous of Harry. Quieting her sudden maddening heart-beat, she reached the Great Hall wondering if Professor Snape would be there, too.

* * *

"Would you like to tell me what is going on, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall had had time to think about the plan of her longtime friend, and more she thought about it, more she believed he had gone completely insane.

When Hermione Granger had come knocking on the door with an expression of pure disbelief, she had understood what had happened right away. Her later words had just confirmed what she had known from the start: Hermione Granger and Severus Snape could never get along.

She had kept quiet until then for the mere reason that she had thought that Dumbledore's daydreaming was quite innocuous. She had, of course, been wrong and she admitted that she should have known: Dumbledore would not give up that easily.

The previous night she had thought that at least Granger would have enough sense to her to quit that absurd project. But when the Feast had started, she had seen a satisfied smile plastered on Dumbledore's face and a look of pure determination on Hermione's, equal to when she had planned S.P.E.W.

She had tried to interrogate Dumbledore on the further developments of the situation but he had refused – diplomatically as usual – to talk to her about them.

That was why she found herself storming through the door of Dumbledore's office with a look of pure rage and indignation.

"Oh, Minerva, good morning to you, too. What is going on about what, my dear?" He completely ignored her tone of accusation as he was about to take his lemon drops from a drawer.

"Don't you dare offer me your impossibly sweet lemon drops, Albus! Having me suffer from diabetes won't free you from my disapproval!" She stood tall across from him as her eyebrow raised in displeasure.

"I never thought it could, Minerva. What is it that you disapprove of so much?" He asked, defeated, as he folded his hands in his lap patiently.

"You know it very well. What did you say to Miss Granger yesterday night?" She looked at his eyes adamant daring him to sell her one of his diplomatic half-truths.

"I told her the truth about Severus." He replied seriously as he held her unwavering gaze.

Her eyes dilated in disbelief before answering. "Have you gone completely insane? She is only seventeen years old and she is still a student here at Hogwarts! Do you even realize how dangerous it could turn out to be if somebody came to know she is hiding a secret under Fidelius Charm? Do I have to remind you that Snape is a Death-Eater for all intents and purposes even if he works for the Order?" She paced furiously in front of his desk as her mind tried to find a solution to that mess quickly.

"I wouldn't worry myself too much about Severus'... charges, Minerva. I'm more than sure that he would protect Miss Granger with his life if the situation should present itself. She is old enough to face this responsibility. I have reminded her that she was not obliged to help Severus as well as the Order. She wanted to do it, Minerva, she is ready." He replied with her same altered voice as he stood up in front of her.

"Hermione is a Gryffindor: should you tell her to go and face Voldemort, she would do it right away! And how can you be so sure he would protect her, Albus? He has sacrificed thousands of lives for this cause. I wouldn't be so sure that he would care too much about Hermione's life if he has to choose between her and his cover." She blurted as one of her hair fell from her ever perfect chignon.

"Because he already cares for her, Minerva, how can you be so blind not to see it? Besides, I forget that you are not aware of the latest developments." He added with some amused mischief.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously before answering. "What are you talking about? You have already told me about your chat yesterday." She neared her old time friend as she tried to suppress a sudden need to strangle her superior.

"Apparently, she met him yesterday night, during one of her Prefect rounds, after he had come back from one of Tom's meetings. He was badly hurt and she helped him with a... particular technique, I believe." His eyes gleamed with some tender amusement.

Minerva had been surprised quite a couple of times in the past few months, especially when the Headmaster had come up with some bizarre idea regarding his insane affection for that particular situation. But she truly gaped at what she had just heard and the Headmaster seemed to enjoy it a bit too much.

"Minerva, they have come to... develop some affectionate feelings towards each other in the last month. I must admit it that I had not expected it. When I pushed them together, I actually thought it would be a fruitful collaboration as well as a possible good friendship. But I believe that for once I have been more successful than I had ever intended to be. She has clearly defied him in order to help him and he has let her." He kept going as his voice became huskier the more he got excited about his absurd ideas.

She had to admit that it was an unusual behavior for Severus. She had known him for twenty years and she had never been able to talk to the boy for more than ten minutes without him turning away annoyed with his billowing robes. However, it could also only mean that Hermione Granger was a far more persistent person than she was.

"Even if you may be right, it is still highly risky for them to be involved with each other. It is a very dangerous time Albus, and they both play a crucial part in this war. Love can defeat evil, but it can also create chaos. Are you – are we – willing to accept such an immense risk?" She tried to make him see reason bus his sad expression told her that she was failing miserably.

"I cannot undo and unbound what it is meant to be, Minerva." He replied with his most solemn voice.

"Cannot or do not want to? Because they are two very different things, Albus. Nobody predicted their friendship. You pushed them together and they developed some kind of feelings, but that is only natural. Two people who see each other every day for hours are meant to care for each other at some point. Fate and destiny have nothing to do with it." She sighed, resigned, as she let herself sit on the chair across from him. If the Headmaster could not see reason, she could try to... repair the situation on her own.

"Oh, Minerva, even you have to admit that if Hermione Granger was able to enter Severus' chambers, something magical has happened. Even I am forbidden from going inside." He replied with some light amusement as she stormed out of the room completely furious at his superficiality on a situation complicated as that and at the mere possibility that he might actually be right in his assumptions, after all.

* * *

Severus was sitting at his desk in his office, thinking – as it often happened lately – about Hermione Granger. She had crawled her way into his life in a way that surprised even him. A month had gone by and she was already part of his life as a student, as an insufferable assistant, and as an innovative healer. That last thought made him grunt loudly in the quietness of the room in amusement as well as in annoyance.

Getting up and stretching his legs, he caressed his knees and calves where her hands had been the previous night. It had taken him a good five minutes to understand what she had been trying to do and in the end, he had to admit it had been an intelligent solution.

She must have started with the idea that the Cruciatus curse creates an unreal pain as it distorts the perceptions of nerves. Then, she must have thought about something that could... cancel those unreal feelings with something that was real and at the same time pleasant.

Yes, it was a brilliant solution, he could not deny it. She could actually be a wonderful healer.

Shaking his head as to banish those dangerous thoughts, he recalled his two last chats with the Headmaster. He had been so altered when he had discovered that Hermione now knew everything about his role as a spy in the ranks of the Dark Lord. She was not supposed to know, none of them were. If the Dark Lord came to know about her proximity to him, it wouldn't take him five minutes to abduct her.

Hermione Granger had to be as far away from him as possible. She was part of the Golden Trio and if she died, it would destroy Potter – not only because he would be devastated by her death but also because Potter and Weasley would not be able to survive even one day without her. How could Dumbledore not see it?

Taking a deep breath, he readied himself to open the door as he heard her steps down the hallway. First of all, she could not come to his office through the dungeons anymore. If any of the Slytherins were to see her down there more often than necessary, word would spread fast enough and it wouldn't take much to reach the Dark Lord's ear.

* * *

She knocked on the wooden door of his office as she had gotten used to do in the past thirty days and as usual, she could feel her heart-beat beat a little faster. She briefly wondered in what mood he would be in as she ushered inside quickly.

He was sitting behind his desk at the end of the room, the soft light of the fireplace on his left side accentuated some of his harsher lines. He didn't raise his head to look at her and she guessed it was not exactly a good sign.

"Good evening, Sir." She muttered uncertainly as she took a few steps towards him.

"Miss Granger." He greeted briefly. No, definitely not a good sign. He kept his gaze fixed somewhere on his desk as if he had been in deep thoughts for a while now.

She, on the other hand, pretended to be natural as she looked around for the millionth time in the past month. What caught her attention this time, though, was the little door that was hidden right behind his back, deep inside a protracted archway. She wondered if it took to his personal chambers.

Her thoughts, though, were quickly interrupted by his deep voice. "Before we get started with our work, I would like to point out a few things." She simply nodded as she recognized his most adamant voice. He got up and rounded his desk in a few quick and elegant steps and before she could even blink, she found him right in front of her as she was obliged to tilt her head up in order to look at his black eyes. She wondered mesmerized if he was using Legilimency on her once again.

"What happened yesterday must not happen again. I don't care if the Headmaster or Merlin in person commands you to... take care of me." His eyes diverted briefly as he was not able to find better words. She hoped herself that her blush could be mistaken for the unusual heat of his office.

"You cannot and must not interfere with what happens after I come back from the Dark Lord's meetings. Is that understood?" He drawled very slowly as to punctuate the meaning of each and every word. She silently nodded as she found herself suddenly speechless in his overwhelming proximity.

"Since the Headmaster thought essential to update you on matters that do not concern you, I find myself as easily inclined to reveal a few essential things." He spat derisively as the hard tone of his voice finally woke her up from her sudden enchantment.

"After all, I believe that if he deemed you ready for a secret under Fidelius Charm, I believe he would not object to my decision to reveal what our project is really about." Her eyes opened slightly at those enticing words and he seemed to notice it as his lips curled slightly in a scary smirk.

"Long story made short, the Headmaster went looking for a ring considered precious to the Dark Lord: Marvolo Gaunt's ring. He should have destroyed it as soon as he found it but, taken by a sudden desire to wear the Dark Lord's jewelry, he wore it on his finger. The ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, which can only be contained. And that is what I did. I trapped the curse in one hand for the time being but nothing more could be done. However, not fully satisfied of his folly, he decided that I should find an impossible cure for his curse." He finished with his scowl of mockery and displeasure turned once again into an impenetrable mask of indifference.

She wanted to touch his face.

Shocked at her own sudden desire, she took a few steps back that he mistook with fear as his lips curved slightly into a satisfied smile.

"That is why his hand is purplish..." She answered distracted as she shook her head to clear it.

"So you noticed." He drawled with indifference as his hands busied themselves in adjusting his impossibly tight sleeves.

"I did, just the other day. How much do we have left to find a cure?" She asked curiously as she took two steps forward once again. He looked at her sudden proximity with suspicion and what could be called an imperceptible surprise. He straightened his shoulders as he tried to put some kind of distance between them without really backing away.

"Around four-five months." He replied dryly.

"Sir, if you were able to contain the curse, why can't you heal it completely?" Taken by her usual curiosity, she hadn't realized that her words could insinuate an incompetency. Feeling her cheeks reddening in embarrassment, she raised her head to check his reaction. His eyes narrowed dangerously bus his voice was calm as he spoke again.

"Because I don't know what the curse is, exactly. Containing it is an entirely different matter: dark curses have many aspects in common between them so what can alleviate one, can generally alleviate all the others, while for healing it completely you must know what the precise curse is." He explained her tiredly as he went back to his desk to light the cauldron.

"Isn't there a way to discover out which one is exactly?" She knew her question was lame but she just could not refrain her curiosity.

"Do you know why the Headmaster asked me to help him in this matter, Granger?" He turned around with a sudden impulse and she startled slightly as in front of her appeared her scariest Professor of Potions.

"Because you are a wonderful potions-maker?" She replied tentatively as her voice became suddenly uncertain. His features gentled slightly at her compliment as lips curved a little losing his harsher demeanor for a few seconds.

"Besides that, I have a vast knowledge of Dark Arts. As you sure know..." He paused a little to underline his displeasure. "I have invented a few hexes myself. I tried to understand what curse it was but all I know is that it is incredibly powerful. The only other person who may have a more extensive knowledge in this field than me is the Dark Lord himself and I wouldn't dream to exceed him." He replied pensively as if he had been recalling some particular memories.

Hermione had spent enough time with her Professor to know when it was time to withdraw and not push him further. "So what are we going to do now?" She asked hopefully as she rolled her sleeves.

She could see his surprise at her usual determination but he scowled his face into an expression of perpetual indifference in no time.

"We keep on trying, Granger." He replied simply as he gave her one his heavy books to read.

* * *

She had been most surprised when Snape had told her – not without a slight shade of embarrassment – that from then on it would be preferable for her to use his chambers to get into his office. She had gaped for a couple of minutes – which increased their embarrassment – before she was able to mutter something as an answer.

He had shown her that she would have to take a particularly hidden passageway on the ground-floor where she would reach the tiny little door she had seen the previous night. The door, of course, was protected with magical wards as well as with a password. He would provide that she would be exempted from the magical wards but he had to reveal her the password.

He had insisted on confirming that she would not take advantage of his kindness. Otherwise, he would make certain that it would be the last time she could do it. She had gulped nervously before nodding in agreement.

She felt... special. Yes, she decided, that was how she felt. Special. She had tried to get his approval for ages and now she was permitted in his personal chambers. She was – in a certain sense – his pupil and she could not be prouder of it.

Smiling dumbfounded, she reached the Great Hall for dinner. As soon as she spotted her friends in their usual seats, she rushed towards them, trying very hard to wipe away that stupid smile on her face.

"What is it you are so cheered up about?" Harry asked her with some nuisance as he angrily stacked a chicken leg on the common plate.

"Just about some interesting essay. Why that face? What happened?" She asked defensively as she poured some pumpkin juice into her glass.

"Haven't you heard? Last night there was a massacre in Hogsmeade: two Muggle-Borns families died and two Morsmordre were seen shining in the sky around midnight." Ron explained as he patted his friend's shoulder in solace.

"Harry, it is not your fault." She replied with a mild voice as she tried something deeper to say but she failed miserably.

"I can't bear it anymore, Hermione. I know I'm supposed to do something but I just don't know what. Innocent people keep dying and it is getting more frequent. I'm just... so frustrated, you know? I'm the Chosen One, the one who should defeat Voldemort once and for all, and I just don't know how! I'm tired of waiting!" He slammed his hand on the table to make his point stronger as everybody turned around to check on the cause of a sudden tremble of the Gryffindor table.

She wondered briefly if Snape had been there. If not only he had been there, but if he might have been forced to contribute to those deaths in some way. He had gotten back to school with a broken rib and a Cruciatus aftermath. Maybe he hadn't after all.

Letting go a nervous breath she didn't know she had been holding, she realized that he had come back to Hogwarts way sooner than midnight. It had not been him.

"If Voldemort is a brutal killer, it is not your fault. You can't be responsible for the actions of a madman, Harry. The sooner you realize it, the sooner he will stop provoking you. He can feel your anger and your powerlessness every time and he will take advantage of it." She knew her words were a mere consolation but she had nothing else to offer. The only thing she could do was to try to find a way to heal Dumbledore as soon as possible. He was their only hope to end that war without too many deaths.

"I know, Hermione, but it is not that easy!" He spat with anger. "Anyway, I have to go to meet Dumbledore. See you later." He added more calmly as he made to get up.

"Wait!" She said in a hurry. "Can I borrow your Invisibility Cloak?" He just furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before he simply nodded and made his way to the immense double door.

"What do you need the Invisibility Cloak for?" Ron asked curiously as his gaze moved from Harry to her.

"Nothing important, I would like to check on some references for an essay in the library and I would like to do it tonight." He shook his head in disgusted dismay.

"You become more of a swot with each passing year." He replied uncaring as he gave a famished bite to his chicken.

* * *

She knew it had been a bad idea. She had known it since the first time she had thought it but now, at night of a rainy day, completely alone in the library, knowing she was breaking at least more than ten rules of her school, she really knew it had been a bad idea!

Clutching the Invisibility Cloak more firmly around her, she advanced till she encountered the rope that divided the permitted section from the restricted one. She felt a surge of adrenaline as she overcame it with pure satisfaction. She could actually get used to that. She smiled maliciously at that, she really was spending too much time with Snape.

He looked just so transgressive in his rigidity. After all, he had been and still was a Death-Eater. She wondered how come Snape knew so many things about the Dark Arts. He had admitted so himself with some pride. And why was he a Death-Eater?

She had to admit that she had always noticed a halo of darkness and mystery around him and if none of them trusted him, there must have been a reason. None of the Order members liked him but Dumbledore and that was a mystery, too. Every time he looked at him, there was always some... melancholy in his leer.

She shook her head to chase those thoughts away. She had been too much obsessed with Snape lately and it was not reassuring. She just wanted to... understand. Understand him. Understand everything. She was curious, that's all.

She reached the shelf she was looking for and started going through the titles. In five minutes, she found what she was looking for.

She looked around warily before extracting her wand and whispered a light Lumos. She was amazed by how many potions – some of them even plainly simple – that regarded dark magic.

One hour had gone by and she was about to give up when she read something that captured her attention. Reading furiously those few lines, she bit her lip as she always did when she tried to get a particular solution.

It could actually work, with some adjustments it could effectively work. She wrote down those few lines on her parchment with some ideas they could use to modify it for their specific purpose.

As soon as she was done, she couldn't help a satisfied smile.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm really sorry for the big delay but I have just graduated from university and I have not had the time to update. I shall get back to update the story at least every ten days.**

 **If the last two chapters have been readable, it is for the amazing and wonderful work of my Beta Reader, MWolfe13. Thank you so much!**

* * *

While her friends enjoyed their Sunday morning, she tried to get as much info as possible about her project.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny had asked her to go with them for some Quidditch practice, but she had refused, making excuses about a Charms essay she had to deliver next week. Harry and Ron had believed her on the spot while Ginny had looked at her with a suspicious gaze before shaking her head and reaching the others.

She didn't care what they thought. Her project was much more important than Quidditch practice. That was why she was all alone in the Gryffindor common room with thousands of books opened in front of her near the fireplace.

She had spent five whole hours before mastering her idea. She couldn't believe it when she finished taking the last few notes. It really could work.

* * *

She descended the stairs in a rush, wanting to get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. She rubbed her eyes tiredly as her vision was kind of blurry for the many hours she had spent reading furiously in the dim light of the common room on a cloudy day.

The first thing she looked for as soon as she entered was the presence of Snape. He sat at the High Table with his usual placidity as his eyes spotted her on the threshold of the Great Hall right away. She didn't know if her tired eyes were deceiving her, but she thought for one second to have seen a hint of a greeting smile on his lips.

She smiled back as she tried to convey with her gaze her discovery. He seemed to notice this as his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. She gave a small nod before reaching her friends in their usual seats.

"So how did your Quidditch practice go?" She asked perkily as she let herself enjoy her meal in a satisfied exhaustion.

"Cold. It started to snow as soon as we reached the Quidditch pitch. How is your essay going?"

She poured some pumpkin juice into her glass, barely paying attention to the question asked.

"Pretty well. I think I finished it, but I would like to... check a few things tonight to be completely sure." She answered smugly, proud of the fact she had already found an excuse for her later absence.

"I see. So are you coming?" Ginny asked as she took another bite of her food.

She turned her head to look at her friend confused. "Coming where, exactly?" What had she missed?

"To Slughorn's party, of course." She looked at her as though she had been daft. She had forgotten entirely about Slughorn's party. Damn, she didn't have time for that!

"I don't know. It's tomorrow night, right? I will let you know in the morning. As I told you I still have..." If she went to the Slug Club, she wouldn't be able to meet Snape in the afternoon.

"Yes, yes, you told me, a Charms essay due next week. What's going on, Hermione? You've been so distracted lately like you're not all there." Ginny patted her shoulder as to shake her from her thoughtfulness.

"I'm not distracted." She replied with indignation in her voice.

"So, how come we have not spent time with you in over two weeks?" She looked around in search of a proper answer as Ginny looked at her with an accusing gaze, but she wasn't able to come up with anything acceptable. She had been absent, she had noticed it already a while ago, but she couldn't give up her project – their project. She might have found a satisfactory solution, which she knew meant other time away, more time spent with Snape and not with her friends.

"I'm working on an important project, Ginny, I just can't give it up now." She replied with a determination she thought she didn't have. It seemed to hurt Ginny's feelings for she shook her head in disbelief and turned toward Harry and Ron and... Lavender? Had she really been that absent? She must have because she surely had missed Ron and Lavender make out with each other.

With a resolution she felt falling with every second that went by, she stood up from her chair and walked out of the Great Hall leaving her best friends behind. Once outside, she took a deep breath before heading back to her common room.

* * *

It was 6:00 PM when she had finished revisiting everything. She had finished all her homework, she didn't have an essay to prepare or book to read and her project – their project – might have a breakthrough that right afternoon. She decided that she could spare some minutes for her friends too, after all.

She would meet Snape at 7:00, which meant she could be with her friends for at least half an hour. She hoped that it would be enough for them to forgive her latest absence.

She walked out of her room and went to the common room. She grimaced as she saw that Lavender Brown had replaced her in her absence. She didn't care about Ron and his relationships. Hermione didn't care about relationships in general. She couldn't allow herself to. Maybe Ginny had been right. She had been too distant, too distracted, completely taken by her project – their project. She realized with some amusement that turned to fear that she was turning into Professor Snape.

He had been such a... persistent thought in her head lately. One thing was sure: she had been thinking about him a lot more than she had about her friends, which was disconcerting the least. He was just so enigmatic and enthralling. She was attracted to him, and she wanted to discover out what the mystery was, what exactly he was hiding. She realized with some bewilderment that he had become an obsession.

Shaking her head, she promised herself that she wouldn't let herself be that much become more captivated by him or their project from then on. She would find time for her friends and for other interests she had. The war was grave, but she could not keep going like that. She had to talk to him, as to Dumbledore. Her friends had to know what was happening, about what she was doing, so she didn't have to hide anymore, or she really would end up like Snape. He was fighting in the war with the most dangerous role anyone could have, but nobody knew it, and he always ended up being unappreciated and doubted.

She slapped herself mentally. She realized that every time she started thinking about Snape, she would end up excusing him or justifying him or defending him. She had to stop that right away.

Looking at the clock as she descended the stairs in a rush, she realized she was over five minutes late. Whatever the consequences would be, she decided she didn't regret it a bit. She had needed it, she had needed some good time with her friends, even if that meant that Hermione would find a pissed Professor Snape in two minutes and that she had to accept to go to Slughorn's party the next day. It had been worth it. At least, that's what she hoped.

She quickly checked that nobody was around to see her entering the hidden passageway on the ground-floor and then rushed down the long and tight hallway to reach the Professor's chambers. She spoke the password in a hushed voice as she opened the door fast. As soon as she was inside, she let herself catch a breath before rushing once again down the stairs that led to his office.

All she could see was his stiff back from her point of view, but she didn't need much more to understand that he was bothered by her lateness.

Still trying to get her breath, she rounded him to be sure of her assumptions. "I'm sorry to be late, Sir, I have been caught up in a few... things." She ended lamely.

His eyebrow shot up as he detected her lie miles away. "Your incapacity to lie is extremely annoying, Granger, therefore I would prefer for you to tell the truth as to avoid to embarrass us both from now on" She closed her eyes shamefully as she took off her robes.

"I was talking with my friends, and I lost track of time." She hushed with embarrassment.

"Sir?" She asked after a protracted silence as he prepared the cauldron.

"Yes, Granger?" He drawled with apparent disinterest as he freed the desk from a series of scattered parchments and books.

"I think I might have found something interesting." His head shot up as he eyed her with renewed curiosity. As soon as she saw it, though, it was hidden promptly with his curtain of black hair falling around his face.

"Go on." He said after a couple of seconds as he still avoided looking at her. She felt offended, somehow, but she kept going.

"I think we have been too concentrated on finding the precise curse rather than the cure itself. So I decided to think more about the effects of the curse and a way to heal them or to reverse them in some way." She explained preliminary as she took a few steps towards him. He seemed to notice this as his eyes stayed fixed somewhere between her thighs and his desk in slight confusion. His sudden attention to that detail made her feel self-conscious about her need to go near him every time she talked. Shaking her head to chase those thoughts away, she tried to concentrate once again on her theory, but his deep voice stopped her.

"I've studied the Dark Arts for far longer before you were born, Granger, there is no way to heal a curse without knowing which one it is." He mocked her with a light scowl as his eyes concentrated on her figure once again.

"Just hear me out Sir, and if my theory is idiotic I won't talk about it anymore, but I believe that it may be an interesting idea." She took another two steps forward. Now her thighs brushed the edge of his desk, and her hands fell smoothly on its surface. He contracted his jaw at that sudden movement, but she couldn't tell whether in anger or fear.

He merely nodded as his concentration seemed to falter by her sudden proximity.

"The curse causes the death of cells of the parts that are infected. So I thought that we could try to create a potion that could revitalize those dying cells: A potion made with Wiggenweld Potion, Bezoar, Blood-Replenishing Potion and Dittany. It would be a bomb that would – maybe not completely erase the curse – but buy us time indefinitely till we find a permanent solution. Since you have already trapped the curse in one hand, the potion will keep reversing the effect of the curse to no end." She explained proudly as she saw his eyes concentrate on her once again as he thought about her solution.

"It is too strong a potion for it not to be targeted. Such a mix of powerful potions would subject a sound body – so to say – to repeated stress. Besides, all those compounds wouldn't be stable enough once mixed." He replied as he shook his head in negation.

She smiled victoriously as she explained what had been her best idea: "That's why, Sir, I thought about creating a cream from the potion. It would be targeted, and the needed binders and thickeners would stabilize the different compounds." His eyes widened in surprise as she could see his mind think about her idea seriously. He placidly rounded the desk, his tall and dark figure once again in front of hers, and once again she felt the sudden and forbidden desire to reach out and touch his face. It looked, strangely, so soft under the dim light of the fireplace.

Fortunately, her thoughts were interrupted by his voice. "Where did you come up with this idea?" He asked her dubiously as his eyes searched the answer in hers.

"You don't want to know, Sir." She replied ambiguously as she sustained his impossibly penetrating gaze. His lips curled slightly in amusement, but he didn't add anything else. He just walked back to his desk as she tried to analyze his mood.

"I think you might indeed have had an interesting idea, Granger. It could work." She realized that that might be the nearest thing to a compliment she would ever receive from Snape. Checking that he was not watching her at that moment, her smile doubled at the small victory.

"First of all, I guess you have some notes with you about the quantities we should use for each potion. We may go through those now, and perhaps tomorrow we may start brewing it." She quickly took her notes from her bag and pushed them on the desk. His eyes didn't waste time to check on them furiously.

"You may sit here, Granger." He announced stiffly as he indicated the stool next to his. Without a precise reason, she felt a hot blush blossom on her face. Trying not to let him notice it, she rushed to sit on the stool, willing her hair to fall onto her face – a habit she had taken from him.

She could almost brush his elbow with hers as his face mirrored hers in one of absolute concentration while reading her notes. His breath was silent, but she could detect his sudden uneasiness by her proximity. Trying to ignore that sudden embarrassment, she concentrated on his smell instead. She realized in less than two seconds that it had been a big mistake. He smelled of sandal and strangely of mint. It was a pleasant smell, a manly scent, a reassuring smell.

Her heart was beating madly in her chest when his voice cut short her maddening thoughts. "It needs a few changes, but I believe it may work. The main ingredient of this potion should be Dittany followed by Wiggenweld Potion and Blood-Replenishing, with Bezoar for last. The poison of the curse cannot be cured completely. It need only be contained, so a strong quantity of Bezoar would not only useless but also harmful." He canceled some numbers on her parchments and scribbled others with elegant easiness.

"I already have Dittany and Blood-Replenishing, but we need to brew the Wiggendweld potion as soon as possible. In the meantime, I will try to find more information about binders and thickeners." He seemed to be talking to himself as he kept updating her notes with thousands of marginal notes as she tried with great difficulty to follow his maddening hand with her eyes.

All of a sudden, as his hand kept leaving elegant marks on her parchments with infinite precision, her attention was caught by his left arm that shot up in pain. His jaw clenched, and he didn't dare make a sound other than an almost inaudible grunt of displeasure. His fist was clenched tightly, and his right hand came to support his other arm.

"Sir?" She asked in agitation. He opened his eyes again, his cold and indifferent mask once again placed on his face perfectly.

"I have to go now, Granger, we will talk more tomorrow." He drawled as he got up and walked to the little wooden door that led to his chambers as he waited for her to exit his office.

She hurried herself out while giving slight nods in the air to no one in particular. Once out, she still felt restless. He had been called again, after only two days. What was she supposed to do?

* * *

She took the stairs to get to the Great Hall for dinner as her mind wouldn't stop thinking about all the possible reasons for which he would be called once again after merely two days. The last time he had gone to one of Voldemort's meetings, he had come back with the aftermath of a Cruciatus and a broken rib. She couldn't help but wonder if he would be hurt once again.

She took her usual seat, greeted her friends briefly, and took some potatoes from a plate in front of her. Harry asked her something about Quidditch, but she only nodded without really paying attention to the question and kept musing about Voldemort's meeting instead.

He had asked her – insisted, actually – not to check up on him anymore, even if the Headmaster were to push her to do it. She had consented, but she had not been convinced and not because the Headmaster had asked her to but because, strange as it was, she cared for him.

He had become a perpetual presence in her life in that last month; they had spent two hours together every afternoon. They had argued, a lot, at the beginning but then they'd fallen into a relaxing and familiar routine that she didn't want to give up. He had taught her; he had scolded her, he had kept her company. He was her equal. No, he was someone superior from whom she could learn a lot. She already had, after all.

"So, Hermione, have you thought about who you will come to the party with tomorrow?" Ron asked her hopefully as Lavender glared at his statement.

"I don't know yet. Maybe I will go alone. I'm not really in the mood for a party, actually... yes, yes, Ginny, don't worry, I will come." She added exasperatedly. Spending a lot of time with Snape meant she couldn't spend as much time with her friends as she used to a couple of months before. She didn't really mind, but they seemed to and that was the only reason she was going to that stupid party.

"You can't miss it, Hermione! Eldred Worple is going to be there! You must come!" Ginny insisted as her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. She refrained first the sudden urge to roll her eyes and then her laugh as she realized she was imitating Snape far too much for her liking.

"And I told you I would. Don't worry, Ginny! I will be there, alone, but I will be there." She replied as she tried to resume her thoughts about Snape.

"We could go together if you want, as friends, of course," Harry added timidly as he slowly ate his potatoes. Her eyes widened as she realized that that simple request had embarrassed them all. She knew Ginny had the intention to leave Dean but had not found the courage yet while Harry was head over heels over Ginny, and Ron didn't seem that enthusiastic about his relationship with Lavender already.

"Why not? It doesn't look like a bad offer. Why don't we talk about it tomorrow? I have an unfinished essay waiting for me right now, so I think I will go... to finish it... now." She said as she could feel her cheeks redden from the lie and the sudden cold atmosphere.

She didn't have time for teenage melodrama, and she had to decide what to do with the fact that she knew Snape would come back hurt from that meeting once again.

She examined her possibilities: or she could go back to her room and forget all about it or she could – against her better judgment – reach Snape's private chambers and wait there till he came back for helping him if needed.

Snorting at her lack of judgment, she directed herself to the secret passageway that led to Snape's chambers.

* * *

It was 10:00 PM, and he had not come back yet. She paced back and forth in his chambers, wondering where he was at that moment.

She had been in his private rooms for more than an hour, and she had had all the time to snoop around in search of something that could explain the mystery that Snape was to her. He didn't possess any personal belongings, but she had time to admire the beauty of his private quarters in all tranquility, without being afraid of being caught.

Before then, she had been in his rooms other two times, and she had never had the opportunity just to give a proper look at them. From the door where she entered, she could admire in front of her a beautiful view of the Forbidden Forest through the amazingly giant windows. She had been mesmerized in front of those three windows for hours – hidden behind the massive curtains – before deciding to snoop around before he came back.

On the left side of the door there was a wall – that she later discovered was a comfortable bathroom - that restricted the already tiny entrance, but it was soon over as once overcome it, she could spot two sofas facing each other separated by a coffee table. On the right side, instead, there was another door which she suspected to be the bedroom. Without conscious thought, her cheeks reddened at the mere idea. Shaking her head as to get her control back, she wondered why all of a sudden she had developed such a sense of... intimacy – in lack of a better word – for her Professor. She just felt so private about him and everything that regarded him, as if they had a kind of special bond that nobody – not even them – could really talk about, so much it was personal.

Soon after that door, there was a see-through cabinet, the one full of potions she had already noticed the previous time she had been there.

She was about to explore the desk positioned perpendicularly to the cabinet when the door she had opened an hour earlier opened, showing an injured Snape staggering. Hermione rushed to his side, his eyes widening at the sight of her. He didn't seem displeased but merely surprised. He didn't utter a word as he let her take him to the couch just like two days earlier.

As she let him fall carefully on the softness of the couch, she noticed that this time he looked almost worse than the previous one. All his limbs and joints trembled from the after-shocks of a Cruciatus Curse, but his shaking seemed much stronger and his breath more labored than the last time.

Evoking some light with a whispered Lumos, she just then noticed that his robes were soaked with fresh blood. She barely stifled the horrified gasp that wanted to come out.

* * *

He hated the Dark Lord! He hated Albus Dumbledore! He loathed himself... he had worked for the Order for twenty years now, and nothing had really changed. When he had switched sides that night a long time ago, he had genuinely thought that he would not be obliged to make people suffer anymore. He would not cause the death of others, he would not inflict pain on innocents, he would not... he would not do a lot of things, but he had never been more wrong. He was obliged to do that and so much more.

The Dark Lord was getting dangerously impatient. He wanted Dumbledore out of the picture as soon as possible or he would never be able to kill the boy. Dumbledore seemed to be getting anxious himself. The Headmaster thought he didn't know, but he was well-aware of the sudden curious meetings he had with Potter at night, just as him with Granger.

Dumbledore had asked him one thing only: not to divulge the real reason behind the necessity of finding a potion that could heal his curse. He was never to tell that he would have to kill him if he didn't find a cure before the time came. Out of pure spite of how that dangerous situation seemed to fall on him, he had confessed everything to Granger with no remorse in the heat of anger.

Now he could barely keep himself on his own feet as he opened the door that led to his chambers. The Dark Lord wanted a positive result and soon, and he didn't mind the torture of his most loyal subject until he completed said deed.

Granger. Why was he not surprised? He would have rolled his eyes and hissed in anger, but all he could muster was a painful hiss. The Dark Lord could have spared him the Sectumsempra Curse. A lengthy Cruciatus would have been enough. He had to admit though, that the quiet fury he found arising in his chest tempted him to kill Dumbledore sooner than later.

He didn't have enough energy to argue the impropriety of her behavior, so he simply let her take him to his couch.

About to fall into the temptation of fainting with relief, he felt her hands check for his wounds. In the dim light of the room, he could barely see her eyes widen as she looked at her bloody hands. Damn! He didn't have time to reassure her, too. He could only hope she would not call Madam Pomfrey or the Headmaster. Especially the Headmaster.

"Sir, you are bleeding." She said with clear concern in her voice. As usual, she would state the obvious.

"Really?" He had wanted the word to come out with as much sarcasm as possible, but it came out as a coughing fit. He could see her eyes narrow in sudden disapproval. As if what he needed that night was for Granger to scold him.

He closed his eyes again in a vague attempt to regain some control, but as soon as he was about to keep his stronger tremors in check, he felt her hands trying to divest him of his robes. Had he not been bleeding out, he would have blushed under the touch of those self-confident hands.

He looked up to check her face but all he saw was a strong determination. She quickly but gently took off his outer robes and soon he was only in his white shirt, now red with blood. It didn't take her much to free him of that garment too.

He looked down at his chest as a wave of fresh blood reached his nostrils; his white skin red from a series of cuts everywhere on his chest. He vaguely wondered how he had not fainted yet from all the blood loss.

He had barely noticed that Granger had taken Dittany from his shelves and was now pouring a significant quantity of it on his chest. The damn potion burned! He hissed in pain as his tremors started again with new strength. He thought he had heard her curse as he could see her eyes look for a solution.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Granger." He wished he could have told her more, but his vision had blurred from the massive blood loss. She seemed to wake up from her sudden trance at those words as she started singing the incantation. That was one of the really few moments in which he appreciated that Miss Granger was an insufferable know-it-all.

He was sure he had dozed off for a few minutes as he saw Granger bring some potions bottles to his mouth. He just gulped them down, hoping that it would not be the incompetence of Granger that kill him after all. From the taste of it, though, he could be almost sure that it was only a Blood-Replenishing Potion.

He heard - more than saw - Granger light the fireplace up and he couldn't help but bask in the sudden heat of the room. His sight was still blurry, but he could tell the slim figure of Granger with her leonine hair as she neared him again. He saw her bite her lip in embarrassment as she cleared her voice before speaking.

"Sir? May I?" He didn't understand at the beginning what she meant with those words, but as soon as he felt her hands touch his calf with the barest of touches, he nodded his consent imperceptibly. He couldn't help but close his eyes in rapture as her delicate hands made contact with his legs. He could barely stifle a moan of pleasure as the after-shocks of the Cruciatus melted almost right away.

As soon as he got his rational thought back as the pain dissipated rapidly, he couldn't help but think that he had never been touched that way. He had had some women, more than some if he was truthful, but he had never been touched this way. What he had experienced had always been sex, mere lust that was sated between strangers, none of them interested in deepening what there was beyond that flesh. He could tell that her touch had no sexual purpose at all, but still, he had never felt more taken care of than with her handling. What he could feel was her intention to heal him, to make him feel better, to give him – in a certain sense – pleasure rather than pain.

She felt her hands go over his knees till they reached his still trembling thighs. This time he didn't repeat the same mistake to open his eyes in panic as her hands grazed the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. He soon realized, though, that maybe he should have had for he could feel a familiar sensation coil at the back of his spine as a trace of arousal made itself known.

He dared a glance at her face, but she didn't seem to notice the sudden turmoil he was experiencing. She seemed to enjoy her ministrations herself as she put all her attention and care in touching him in the right places.

He lingered a little bit longer in the warming sensation before speaking up. "I'm feeling better. Thank you" He announced stiffly. Her hands touched his skin one last time with something akin to disappointment before backing away and sitting on her knees once again on the carpet by his side.

At that moment he realized the actual state which he was in. His legs were barely open on the couch, still slightly affected by the tremors of the Cruciatus – or had it been her touch?- but he soon chased that thought away. His once white shirt laid open at his sides, and his chest was covered in dried spots of blood. Merlin! How much blood had he lost?

She must have thought that he was looking at the blood that covered his skin for soon after she whispered a perfect Tergeo that cleaned him. She looked at his bloodied shirt with a dubious glance; he had to admit that his shirt was a little bit too ruined to be cleaned and mended with some spells.

"I don't think I can do anything for that, Sir." She admitted, defeated as she looked around in search of something.

"I have got ten shirts just like this one; I will get over its loss." He replied with a mix of reassurance and lightness in his tone that he barely recognized.

She smiled tenderly at him before concentrating once again on her mysterious quest. "Where can I get you a clean shirt, Sir?" He couldn't tell if the small blush he saw blossoming on her cheeks was due at her request or the comforting heat of the room.

"Don't worry about it, Granger." He replied automatically. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as he enjoyed looking at her smooth movements in his personal space. He was shocked at the realization that it didn't bother him that much that his most insufferable know-it-all student was in his quarters.

"Sir, I don't think you should be... bare-chested on a cold night of November." She replied lamely. Her embarrassment just amused him.

"I will wear something later." He didn't mind her presence in his quarters, but he didn't want her in his bedroom.

"Sir, I insist, I believe..." Insufferable know-it-all!

"Stop it, Granger!" He snapped with a sudden embarrassment which he knew was ridiculous: she could touch him, caress him even, see him bare-chested but she could not enter his bedroom. It was ridiculous

"But, Sir, it is cold..." She kept going on as she was completely unaware of his embarrassment. He pondered the idea of getting up and getting a damn shirt himself, but he doubted his legs would support him in the trek between his couch and his wardrobe in the bedroom. Why hadn't he put the wardrobe in his living room?

"You can get a shirt in my bedroom." He blurted out-out of exasperation.

Seeing her cheeks reddening as she stomped away in search of a new shirt, he briefly thought that it was going to be a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Many thanks to my wonderful Beta Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

She walked away from him and into his bedroom with as much dignity she could muster – which was not much. She could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she opened the door to his bedroom, fully aware of his penetrating gaze on her figure.

Whatever she had expected to find, she was quite disappointed once she was inside. It was, all in all, a simple bedroom. As soon as she entered, the first thing that captured her mind was the simple king-size bed by the wall with – naturally – a green comforter. She snorted slightly at the choice of color, but her attention was once again diverted by the warm and comfortable alcove by the window, where she could see the Great Lake. Fascinated by that view, she neared the window with a seat. After some minutes, she heard the distinct noise of her Professor's throat clearing: she had forgotten that he could see her from the sofa. She turned around quickly and was faced with a not too big- not too small wooden wardrobe.

Taking a deep breath and thanking the fact that he could not see her at that moment, she tried to will her blush to disappear, but at that command, her face seemed to redden more. She took the first thing that she could grab with her hand, thanking Merlin that it was a simple white shirt like the one he had been wearing. She closed the double-doors of the wardrobe and rushed back to her Professor.

He seemed to avoid her eyes as much as she was trying to avoid his.

"Sir?" She quietly asked, hoping he would understand the meaning of that simple request. He caught on quickly for he tried to get rid of his cut shirt on his own but it only brought on another attack of tremors. He grunted, frustrated at his inadequacy.

"I can put it on later, Granger, you may go now." He drawled with fake indifference as he went and sat on the couch once again.

"I don't think it would be wise, Sir." She replied tentatively as she could feel her cheeks redden entirely at that statement.

His eyebrow shot up in a light bewilderment. "I don't care what you think, Granger." He hissed with anger.

"You are not fine, Sir, you just suffered from blood loss. I'm not leaving." The determination with which those words came out surprised him as much as her. She vaguely wondered why she wouldn't just back away.

He seemed enraged for one moment but soon after it was replaced with an expression that Hermione had never seen on her Professor's face, it was something akin to... tenderness. The unusualness of it made her almost hope that the dim light of the room had deceived her eyes.

"Granger, we should break off our collaboration." He blurted out-out of the blue as she thought she had heard a shade of melancholy in his voice.

"Why?" She asked half surprised-half offended.

He took a deep calming breath before answering, and she didn't miss the rarity of the gesture. "Because it is not safe." He merely replied as his eyes stayed fixed on hers. She didn't divert her gaze; she didn't shy away from the obscurity Hermione saw in his eyes, she didn't back away from the scary sureness of his voice.

"I knew that already, Sir, I may be naive but I'm not stupid." She said with a harshness in her voice she didn't recognize.

"Believe me, Granger, you don't know anything of what is happening." She was surprised at the lack of mockery or annoyance in his voice.

"Then explain it to me." She requested with a hushed passion.

"I can't. It wouldn't be safe, and it wouldn't be right." Had she just heard a shade of regret in his words?

"With due respect, Sir, we are at war. We have been for years now. None of us are safe, not until this war is over. How can you expect me to simply stand aside when I know that the Headmaster is going to die if we don't do something soon, that you have to bear You-Know Who's craziness almost every night, that Harry is more in danger than we have ever thought, that innocent people are dying every day? How can you expect that of me, Sir?" She pleaded with no trace of embarrassment as she knelt in front of him once again.

"It is not your responsibility, Granger" He affirmed with a certain tenderness.

"Nor it is yours, Sir" The implication of her words were crystal clear, but all she got was a bitter laugh she had never heard coming from her Professor. Surprisingly, it was a sound she enjoyed hearing.

"You don't know how wrong you are about that." His eyes showed a bitter-sweet amusement as they locked on hers.

"What do you mean?" She asked surprised.

"Did you forget that I was a true and loyal Death Eater twenty years ago? Believe me, Granger, when I tell you that there are so many things you don't know. Things you are not supposed to know and maybe never will." She realized that she had forgotten. Her gaze landed on his left arm automatically, and for the first time, she saw the Dark Mark. It was black, scary, horrible; there was no mistaking its fiendish nature. He noticed quickly where her attention had landed, and he rushed to hide his arm on his side.

"Why did you become a Death Eater?" She asked before she could think. She had asked that same question of Dumbledore, but he had refused to answer, making excuses about how it was not his place to reveal that story.

"It is none of your business, Granger!" He scowled with anger.

"You are not a bad person." Had she really said those words aloud? She raised her gaze tentatively, and she was surprised to see that he looked confused for a minute.

"You are a Gryffindor, Granger; you wouldn't be able to recognize a bad person even in the Dark Lord ." He snorted with fake disregard.

"No, I don't think that, Sir. I don't know why you want to hide behind your black robes, your harsh demeanor, and your pointy remarks, but you are a good person." She damned her Gryffindor nature as she felt her cheeks redden at her own bold words.

"I have been a Death Eater for twenty years now, Granger, you should be able to guess what that implies." He replied tiredly as if he had had that conversation with her a thousand times already.

"I know you didn't participate in the Muggle-Borns massacre that happened two days ago, Sir." She exclaimed with a tiny knowing smile.

"It doesn't mean I didn't participate in other circumstances." She wanted to hope that those words were spoken out of the desire to scare her, but his voice sounded too much sincere for a lie.

"Did you, Sir?" She challenged.

"Why are you so interested in my activities as a Death-Eater, Granger?" He turned the tables on her as his eyes gleamed with anger and suspicion.

She had to admit that she was taken aback by his question. "Because I don't understand, Sir." She replied sincerely as her voice became a mere whisper.

"You don't understand what?" He spat with rising anger.

"You, Sir, I don't understand you. I don't understand who you are anymore." She raised her gaze to lock her eyes with his, and she was fascinated with the sudden strange and unknown emotion she saw pooling in his eyes.

"As if you ever did." He mocked her with his usual dry wit.

"No, Sir, indeed I never did. Everybody suspects your good will, nobody trusts you but Dumbledore and McGonagall..."

He sneered with derision. "I wouldn't be so sure about the latter." He interrupted her, but she didn't let him stop her flow of words.

"But you are the one who is fighting this battle on the front lines, facing the Dark Lord day in and day out, bearing his craziness and delusions of grandeur... I never knew Sir, and a part of me feels guilty for I should have known, I should have been more observant, I should have... done something, and I did not. We all hated you, most still do. You work for the Order, but nobody really knows what you have been doing, and everybody thinks your loyalties still lie with the wrong side, that you are spying for the Dark Lord and not the other way around. And it is not fair, Sir. I want to help you, I want..." But once again she was interrupted by his deep voice.

"To redeem me, Granger? Is that what you want? Like one of your stupid elves, you want to save out of the goodness of your heart because you are such a good Gryffindor? Let me be clear to you, Granger, I do not want your pity or your compassion or your help, for that matter. I survived two decades without you. I don't need your commiseration or your comprehension. I know what my job is and there is nothing you can do to change it. Stop trying to see the good in me, Granger, it is annoying and unwarranted." He spat all in one breath, his drawled but harsh voice that instead of scaring her, enticed her even more.

"You don't fool me, Sir." She shook her head sitting once again by his side.

She thought that she had won that round, but her answer had just unnerved him more. "Does a good person kill, Granger? Does he torture innocent people? Does he rape young girls? Does he have fun in seeing them suffer? Because I did all this and I keep doing it on a daily basis. I guess that now your curiosity is finally tamed and you can draw your own conclusions." That outburst had left him exhausted as his limbs started to tremble once again. He avoided her gaze as her eyes tried to find his to understand whether those words had been truthful, or merely some lies spat with acidic venom out of anger. Under the blankness of his perpetual mask, though, she could see a real and tangible shame. She retreated a few steps, disgusted and scared.

"I don't believe you." Her face was red, the incredulity not hidden.

"What do you think a Death-Eater is supposed to do? Go out shopping? Have some nice conversation about the weather? What misguided and false idea do you have of the Death-Eaters, Granger?" His eyes locked with hers once again and all she saw was a considerable amount of pain hidden behind a pitiful and weak mask of indifference.

"Then why are you helping us now, why didn't you stay with them?" She just then realized how much hurt and betrayed her voice sounded. She didn't care, though. She didn't care that she cared and that in that right moment he would know it.

"Because I was under the illusion that by switching sides I could change. But once you are a Death-Eater, you are always a Death-Eater. I will always bear the Dark Mark on my arm. I will always be part of the Dark Lord's ranks. I will always be obliged to act like one of them." His voice was labored as he could not control his strong shakes anymore: his arms and his legs were trembling forcefully under the impulse of that sudden anger.

"You are not one of them." She shook her head in denial.

"Wake up, Granger, and face the harsh reality: I'm a Death-Eater." He pronounced solemnly.

"How many?" She asked in a whisper.

"How many what?" He replied tiredly.

"How many people did you torture, rape, kill?" She asked enraged, and for once he seemed to welcome her violent reaction.

"Suffice to say that I lost count a long time ago." He turned on the other side trying to subside his symptoms, but it was a lost battle.

"How can you do it? How can you inflict pain on innocent people? How can you bear it?" She barely stifled the sudden desire to shake him of that fake indifference.

"Because I have no choice." He simply replied, his voice muffled by the cushion of the sofa.

"When was the last time you had to... you had to..." But she just could not finish her sentence. Right now, she was processing this information and truth-be-told, she didn't know how she should react. Was she supposed to leave him be? To let him face his cruel fate with no mercy?

"Not a long time ago." She could barely hear those words, his voice had become more feeble.

Hermione clutched her face in desperation. She knew there was no solution, she knew she could not change that impossible situation, she knew that he was a good person who – for some mistakes she still didn't know – was forced into doing horrible actions. She could walk away from that situation and proverbially wash her hands, or she could stay and help him in the best way she could.

She didn't know how much time she had been there pondering her choices, but when Hermione finally made her decision, she thought he had finally fallen asleep. In the dim light of the room, she could see his steady breaths as the after-shocks of the Cruciatus had wholly left him.

Sitting by his side, she watched the sun rise through the giant windows of the room. She didn't know how she would fare going to lessons that day without even an hour of sleep, but she eventually concluded that she couldn't care less about lessons today.

* * *

Severus woke up alarmed. For one minute, he couldn't quite recall what had happened and why he found himself splayed ungracefully on the couch. His neck was stiff and his legs sore. He was so cold! His coat and his shirt were tucked up to his chin, and he realized he was bare-chested under all those layers. Scratching his eyes from the remains of sleep, as he got up from the couch he noticed Granger asleep on his carpet right by his side.

The Dark Lord's meeting, the Cruciatus curse, Granger and her insufferable curiosity, her touch, and caring attention... sighing deeply, he put on his shirt while pondering on what to do next. Should he awake the girl? Should he let her sleep?

Recalling the events of the previous night, he remembered dozing out at one point. Her incessant questions and his harsh replies had worn him out, and sincerely he had not cared if she stayed or if she went away. He actually would never have thought that Granger would be stupid enough to stay after everything he had told her. That was why he hated Gryffindors so much: they always mistook naivety and stupidity for nobleness.

As he stiffly got up, he decided to check for his wand in his pocket and to transfigure something into a blanket for the girl. Sighing defeated, he let the blanket fall on her asleep form.

He decided to take a short trip to the bathroom: even if Granger had Tergeo-ed him, he could still smell the blood on his skin. Refreshed and with new clothes, he looked at the young girl for a while. He couldn't help but wonder why she had stayed. The previous night he had been exhausted and his better judgment had failed him. If he really wanted to be sincere, though, it was something that was happening quite often lately when he was around the girl.

She had the incredible capacity to make him lose his temper. Not even the Dark Lord had been able to irritate him so much in twenty years, but she was able to push him over the bridge with her unusual behavior. Why ever in hell would she want to help him? It was not like he had not tried to push the girl away on more than one occasion, but not only would she stick around, she would always come back. It didn't matter how many times he tried to scare her away.

He had known Granger for six years, he had seen her grow up and become the most important piece of the Golden Trio. He knew she was intelligent, curious, capable, willful, insufferable, mature, unbearable with her incessant questions and desire to make everything perfect but he had not known she was also that... persistent.

He had been so tired that he had blurted everything out, almost everything. The Dark Lord wanted to kill Dumbledore in a matter of weeks, which meant he did not have enough time to brew her potion. He had tried to convince the Dark Lord to wait a little bit longer but all he had gained with that approach was a Cruciatus and a Sectumsempra. He had to help Draco kill Dumbledore soon, or they would both die.

He could not tell that to the girl, and he even wondered – surprised – why he felt the sudden urge to confess everything to her. Was he looking for solace? Would she grant it to him?

Shaking his head, he realized he would never put Granger in that position. She was too young, a little bit older than a child. He had made a mistake by telling her everything he was obliged to do as the most loyal Death-Eater of the Dark Lord. She didn't deserve to know what he would be forced to do in a few weeks.

She had shown to be stronger than he had ever imagined, but still, there would be a breaking point sooner or later.

He summoned some breakfast. He was famished! He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, but before he could devour the goodness he had taken from the kitchen, he wondered if he should wake the girl to join him.

It was utterly ridiculous! Wasn't it enough that the girl had actually spent the night with him? Now he would offer breakfast, too? Their relationship was becoming too intimate. She was allowed to touch him. She was allowed to sleep in his quarters, and she was allowed to eat with him in his personal spaces. He didn't want to imagine what would come next.

Still, he couldn't let her starve after the generosity she had shown him the previous night. Reluctantly, he called out her name until she woke up.

Ashamed at seeing what he thought he was not supposed to see – a student of his who had just woken up from his carpet – he tried to figure out how to better phrase his proposal.

It was her, though, that broke the silence first. "Good Morning, Sir." He nodded stiffly as he took in her hesitant expression.

"Would you like something to eat?" he briefly wondered if he had ever asked something like that to anyone in his life before.

"That would be wonderful!" She replied with a beaming smile he thought was completely inappropriate.

"Suit yourself." He drawled with fake indifference as he tried to adjust himself on the chair in a way that ensured he would be as far away from her as possible. She seemed to lose all her shyness around him as she enthusiastically dived in for the food on the platter. He questioningly raised an eyebrow which gained him a delicious blush.

"Sorry, Sir, I was starving." She took back her composure as she silently sat by his side on the stool.

He was so not going to make small talk. It didn't matter how much he felt surprisingly embarrassed by that sudden silence.

"So, how are you feeling today?" He tried not to think about the domesticity of the situation.

"Quite well." He did actually feel better if not for a small stiffness in his legs and arms.

"Why is Vold... You-Know-Who torturing you so much lately, Sir?" He turned his head to face her with a discouraging scowl, but she ignored it.

"It is none of your concern, Granger." He hissed with silent anger. Letting her stay for breakfast had been a bad idea. Sooner or later he was going to make the mistake of telling her everything. He found that lately he had to remind himself quite often that Granger was not to be involved in the Headmaster's plan. At the beginning, he had been opposed to tell Granger anything, until a few days earlier he had been enraged at the notion that Granger knew about his true and real role in that war. She was a mere student, one of the Golden Trio in addition: if the Dark Lord had the mere intuition that the girl was far closer to him than any of them knew, it wouldn't be easy for the Dark Lord to desist from using her for his own advantage.

"I think I have a right to know what is happening, Sir, because I'm more than sure that its consequences will fall on us all." Her tone was gentle but unwavering.

"For how much you might be right, it is not up to me tell you what is really happening. I believe you should talk to the Headmaster." Was it right? Would it be for the better if the Headmaster told her all the truth? Would it change something? He had known for quite a while now that Granger could be discreet and secretive when she needed to be, but could she bear the responsibility of knowing what he had to do to the Headmaster and accept that she would not be able to stop it?

He had to admit that it would make his job easier in the future if she knew. All the Wizarding world would hate him once he killed the Headmaster, he would be alienated from the Order and it would be impossible to inform Potter when the right time came. Having Granger by his side, though, would be quite useful in that sense.

"I would like to know the truth from you, Sir." That simple reply, spoken with the greatest sincerity and trust, distracted him from his deep thoughts.

"I... even though I would like to do that, it is not my place to tell you something that does not regard me." Why did she still trust him after everything he had told her the previous night? How could she even look him in the eyes with that... sweet determination? Miss Granger was a mystery he could not quite grasp. Not yet, at least.

"Alright, then I will talk to the Headmaster as soon as possible. I also would like to ask him the permission to inform Harry and Ron about our project. Would it displease you, Sir?" He shook his head dumbfounded in front of that sudden self-confidence. It wasn't a bad idea: he was exhausted from hiding everything and the more things he was responsible for, more there was the chance that sooner or later he would make some mistakes. He had to hide where his true loyalties laid from the Dark Lord and his worshippers. He had to hide what he had to go through every time he met the Dark Lord from the Headmaster and the Order. He had to hide his actual role from Miss Granger (at which he had failed miserably), and he had to protect their project from those dunderheads she called her friends (which was the least stressful task but it would still be one thing off his plate).

"No, it would not." He looked at the girl with something akin to admiration. He had met thousands of students, of young people in general, and he had come to understand one thing: They were stupid – like he had been or like Mr. Malfoy – or they were naive and reckless – like a Potter or a Weasley – or they were indifferent – like most of them. He had always thought that Granger would fall under the category of the naive and reckless ones but now he realized he thought better of it.

She was courageous and reckless, there was no doubting that. She could also be quite naive, but she wouldn't act on instinct because she couldn't think twice – as most of her house did – but because she believed firmly in her cause and she would let nothing stand in the way. For some strange and unknown reason, he could detect that he had become her cause. What remained to assess, though, was if he minded it or not. However, the simple fact that he had to wonder about it gave him the answer already.

"Sir, are you sure you are alright?" She asked as those caramel eyes of hers fixed him with a worried expression. He had no doubt she would be an excellent healer some day.

"Yes, I am" He replied dumbfounded and with a slight embarrassment that was so untypical of him.

"Will you go to him again tonight?" He couldn't quite decipher if her tone was one of accusation or of compassion.

"If I'm called..." He let the clear meaning sink in her mind as he tried to concentrate on his breakfast once again.

"Do you think you will be called?" She asked with a sweetness he couldn't quite comprehend but he found himself incapable of not answering her delicate question.

"No, I think I won't." He had to talk to Draco as soon as possible: if they didn't find a way to delay what was inevitable, he would have to succumb to his promises.

She sighed with relief as she got up from her stool next to his. He didn't look at her, his gaze lost somewhere in the past hours of extreme confusion and emotional turmoil, so he didn't realize she had just opened the door until he heard her voice again. "You are not a bad person, Sir." How could she be so sure about something that he thought was utterly impossible? He didn't know, but he found that point of view most endearing and enticing.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Oh my! What do we have here? First hug? Well, it is Christmas time after all, I thought we all deserved a bit of sweetness! I hope you all had a nice Christmas and I hope you may have a Happy New 2018!**

 **I would really really appreciate your reviews!**

 **Always a giant thank you to my wonderful Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

"What do you mean by that, Severus?" He didn't miss the strange, confused tone of the Headmaster's voice at his words. He couldn't say that it displeased him.

"I meant what I said, Albus, nothing more and nothing less." Ah! He was enjoying that moment. Who could have known that Granger could actually let him have that sweet little revenge?

"Didn't you at least try to persuade her?" Severus wondered, amused, if even Merlin could ever achieve such an impossible goal.

"I tried." He replied as he brushed his tight sleeves with lack of sympathy for the sudden distress of his superior.

"How much does she know?" The Headmaster asked him suspiciously, but it didn't bother him a bit.

"She knows about the Marvolo's ring and the curse but nothing more." He replied truthfully. He briefly wondered when Granger would join that most pleasant conversation. Her lessons should surely have been over by then, so he guessed it was just a matter of minutes. Would the Headmaster submit to her too, as he had done?

"You should never have told her about that, Severus. How am I to contain her curiosity now?" The older wizard stood up from his chair as he started pacing back and forward in an unusual gesture.

"You have wanted her on this, Headmaster. Don't blame me, now." He replied stiffly as he could feel some of his tamed anger re-appear on the surface.

"As if, in the end, you were really bothered by this arrangement." Was that some kind of accusation? He could feel his muscles tremble slightly under the sudden tension that those words provoked.

"What do you mean by that?" His eyes flashed with rage.

"You should know by now that the paintings and ghosts of this castle love to gossip, Severus." The Headmaster replied with a satisfied amusement while he tightened his grip on the armrests.

"What are you trying to insinuate?" He had never abused his authority as a teacher with his students, and he knew that the Headmaster was quite aware of his integrity in that sense. He couldn't help but feel betrayed by those words, even though he was very careful to put his mask of indifference back on his face as he looked at the smug expression of his superior.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, Severus. It has been a trying week, and I'm afraid it is catching up with me now." But he wasn't genuinely convinced by his sudden retreat.

Just as he was about to investigate those interesting words further, a knock on the door startled them both. Granger had arrived, and he couldn't help a traitorous flutter in his heart.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Headmaster... Sir." She looked at Snape surprised: she didn't think he would be there too.

"Good afternoon to you too, Hermione." The Headmaster greeted her with a welcome smile while her Professor merely nodded his head in her direction. She couldn't help but rest her gaze on his figure a little while longer than maybe she should have. He looked... surprisingly well after the events of that early morning.

"I'm sure you have some questions for me, dear?" The older man asked as the silence protracted a little too long. She moved her concentration to Dumbledore again while she tried to avoid a severe blush blossoming on her cheeks at being caught at her mild impudence.

"Yes, Sir, I would like to talk to you about a few things, actually." How was she supposed to formulate her requests? "First of all, I would like to inform Harry and Ron about my and Professor Snape's project. I think it would be for the best if I don't have to hide from them what we are trying to achieve anymore." She continued carefully as she took the seat the Headmaster had indicated to her across from him. She tried to quiet down her sudden need to look for the approval of the Professor sitting right beside her.

The Headmaster nodded pensively, his darkened hand brushing his beard out of distraction but what attracted her attention more was the profound gaze of Snape she could feel on her person. She tried to ignore that tickling sensation that accompanied her every time she knew for sure that her Potions Professor was looking at her.

"It could be surely helpful but, in all sincerity, I don't think it would be a wise idea in the end. For you see, Hermione, if they came to know my real condition – especially Harry – what would their reactions be?" Hermione understood then, at that right moment, she shouldn't have known about his real condition either. She couldn't help a surprised glance at her Professor, who all but ignored her as his gaze was fixed somewhere on the Headmaster's cursed hand.

"Wouldn't it help Harry to prepare himself more for what's to come?" Hadn't she maybe put much more effort and commitment in her – their – project after she had known the real situation?

"Maybe or maybe not. I'm trying to prepare Harry as best as I can without involving him in a matter that might shock him too much. As you sure well know, the boy is already facing so much due to the link he has with Tom. Wouldn't it be for the best to spare him another emotional turmoil?" She could almost feel herself lulled to sleep by the calming tone the Headmaster was using to persuade her.

"I can only speak from personal experience, and I would want to know – I have wanted to know. It has helped me, Sir, to concentrate all my energies on the most urgent matter better: Professor Snape and I might have found a solution, Sir, a definitive solution." She added proudly. Her news was met by a cold and indifferent stare.

She couldn't help but look unnerved by the meaningful glace that the Headmaster and Snape exchanged right in front of her. That staring battle, though – how it was well-imaginable – was won by her Professor as she could see the older man sighing in defeat.

"Is that what you really want, Severus? Remember that this time all the consequences will fall on you." She openly looked at her Professor as those words ignited her curiosity.

Snape nodded, without adding a word or showing any reluctance in front of that tone that seemed to remind him of something important, although it didn't escape her notice the almost impossible tight grip he had on the armrests.

"Fair enough. I will leave you the pleasure to update the girl, then." Trying to ignore the annoyance at being talked about as if she had not been in the room, she basked in the relief that she now could openly stare at her Professor.

"What will be said in this room, Miss Granger, must not get out of here. Not a single word" He punctuated with severeness. "Is that clear?" Hermione tried to ignore the plain contradiction between what she had just heard and his sudden coldness in her regards. Trying not to shiver at this freezing tone, she nodded seriously.

Before speaking again, he gave one last look at the Headmaster. He looked – strangely enough – preoccupied, as if he was not so sure about what he was doing anymore. "Lately – and more than once - you have expressed your deep desire to know everything about what is really happening. I have concluded..." He seemed to underline the enormous responsibility that fell on him alone, but she couldn't quite tell whether in pride or spite. "... that it might be useful, in the end, if someone else – besides me – knew what has been decided." He finished with a meaningful look at the Headmaster, who – in return – feigned indifference.

"Before doing it, though, I would like to be sure that this is really what you want, Miss Granger: what I am about to reveal is not information easy to live with. You will have to bear the consequences of this knowledge and act accordingly to it. There is no going back." He looked intensely at her eyes whilst she tried to decipher what, even unconsciously, he wanted to tell her. She couldn't help but see a certain hope in his intent gaze for her to share that massive weight of responsibility. How could she refuse such a sweet request?

"I am sure, Sir." She replied proudly with no shade of uncertainty.

What broke their special connection, though, was the old voice of the Headmaster.

"Since this has been decided, may I make a request?" He asked kindly, too kindly for Hermione and Snape's taste. Reluctantly, they both nodded at the Headmaster to go on with his request.

"Wouldn't it be safer if Hermione swore her secrecy through an Unbreakable Vow?" He let out nonchalantly as if that had been the most obvious request to make. She rapidly looked at her Professor, and she was surprised by the intense glare he directed to his superior.

"I don't think it would be..." Snape tried to reply, but he was cut off by the Headmaster before he could finish.

"Why not? Severus, you know the risks that such a situation may bring to all of us if we are not careful enough. It would be safer for you, and it would be safer for Hermione. It is a win-win situation for you both. I'm more than sure that Hermione is quite aware of the fact that she is exposing herself at great risk by helping you, both in the actual task and in the future ones. If she were abducted, or if anything happened to her, I'm more than sure that she wouldn't want for this precious information to fall into the wrong hands. Am I right?" The Headmaster looked at her meaningfully, and even though she wanted to be wary of his suggestions, she couldn't deny their truthfulness.

She risked a glance at her Professor before answering, but he looked more lost and confused than her. "I have no objections." She replied with a self-confidence she actually lacked.

"Perfect!" The Headmaster exclaimed with renewed joy.

"Hermione, Severus, would you like to stand up and kneel in front of each other, please?" Before the Headmaster could round the desk and reach them, she felt Snape's hand grabbing her arm – not too gently but still not painfully – his eyes fixed on hers with admiration mixed with preoccupation.

"If you break it, you will die. Are you aware of it?" He warned her in his most severe tone but, in all truthfulness, she wasn't afraid of it anymore.

"I am." She replied with no shake in her voice.

* * *

They knelt in front of each other awkwardly on the cold stone floor of the Headmaster's office. Hermione tried to smooth her grimace of intolerance as her knees made contact with the rough surface and she couldn't help but admire the indifferent and perpetual scowl of Snape

"Hold each other's hands." Came the most solemn voice of the Headmaster as she and Snape faced each other. She couldn't tell whether it was her perception or reality, but all of a sudden the atmosphere around them became gloomier, more solemn, as not even a breath could be heard in the sudden silence of the room.

She connected her eyes to Snape's: he was looking at her with a strange expression, she could almost detect a peculiar sweetness mixed with want. Was she hallucinating? Was the sudden sacred halo in the air making her see things that maybe, perhaps, she wanted to see?

He extended his right hand in front of him, waiting for her to grab it and just in that right moment she realized, like a divine revelation, that she had wanted to hold his hand for so long. For so long she had wanted to reach him, to get to him in so many ways, as a student, as an assistant, as his personal healer, and now physically as well. She wanted to hold on to him.

Overwhelmed and at the same time incited by that mystical knowledge, she grasped his hand with a sense strange of relief: finally, she had touched him; finally, she was linked to him. Had she not wanted to be the only one to know his secrets, to know him? Had she not been jealous of Harry's fortune in having his book, the book she thought was meant for her and her only? And now – yes, now – she was going to be the sole holder of his deepest secret, and she couldn't help but feel satisfied, empowered, overwhelmed by that same desire she could see reflected his eyes too. He wanted her as she wanted him, to be his and he hers – in many ways – to be linked, to be connected. Yes, she basked in that inflamed sensation as her chest couldn't help but project her excitement in deep breaths while her chest heaved up and down under those impulses.

The Headmaster placed his wand on their linked hands; a strange heat emanated from its tip as she grabbed Snape's hand tighter. He reciprocated her gesture as his eyes stared hers in one of their most private moments.

"Will you, Hermione, not disclose what I am about to reveal in this meeting to anybody else, under no circumstances?" She couldn't help but shiver as she heard her name pronounced by his lips for the first time.

"I will not." She replied resolutely.

He lingered a little while longer than it was necessary as if taken by a sudden urge to ask something else of her. She didn't back away from it; she stayed there, their hands still tightly linked – almost painfully – as she waited for his next move. But he didn't dare, red light emitted from Dumbledore's wand and circled their hands, and as soon as it had started, it was all over and done.

They stood up once again, slightly taken aback by the strange rush of feelings that seemed to follow up the magical oath.

When she was finally able to break her gaze from his, she looked around in search of the Headmaster, but he seemed to have disappeared out of the blue. She didn't have time to investigate further for Snape's voice echoed on the cold stone walls once again, asking her attention, not even slightly bothered by the Headmaster's sudden disappearance.

"This morning you asked me about the reason for which the Dark Lord seems so... eager to hurt me at every meeting." He stood tall right in front of her, none of them capable of sitting down again after the strange shivers they could still feel running down their limbs.

"Yes." She simply said as she tried to decipher his expression but, as soon as he understood her intention, he let his hair form a curtain around his face.

"The Dark Lord is getting quite impatient nowadays: he wants the Headmaster out of the picture sooner than later, in the conviction that, once he is gone, he may have full access to Potter and his alliances. It is not a wrong thinking, to tell the truth: Potter would be more vulnerable, with the Headmaster's death and the consequential changes that would concern Hogwarts." He stopped for a while, waiting for those words to sink into her mind. Still, it was impossible to see his true expression in the dim light of the room, and all she could detect was the deeper inflection his voice took as he went on.

"The Headmaster has lately come to the knowledge of one of the deepest secrets of the Dark Lord: a difficult but quite possible way to kill him. He has, of late, been meeting up with Potter to inform him of the ways to succeed in this task. Nevertheless, the Headmaster is dying and time is running short." He stopped once again, her mind trying to reach out to the conclusion of that revelation.

"The Dark Lord has chosen Mr. Malfoy as the executor of the Headmaster's death, for the reason that would take too long to be explained. To make a long story made short, the Malfoys have fallen in disgrace among the Dark Lord, and he had, therefore, deemed this solution a good way to punish the family. He is quite aware of the fact that the boy is too young for accomplishing such a difficult and complicate deed. However, bound by the circumstances, I have sworn an Unbreakable Vow to his mother: if Draco fails, I will be the one to carry out deed asked of Malfoy." Her mind became just more confused by the minute as she tried to grasp the full meaning of those words.

"Why?" She asked bewildered, and he nodded as if he had waited for that right question all along.

"At the Headmaster's suggestion. He thought that in this way we would accomplish three things: I would spare the Headmaster a far more painful death, I would reinforce my position among the Dark Lord, and we would spare Draco's still innocent soul. I would – in all probability – be promoted as the next Headmaster, and this would permit me to check over Hogwarts until Potter finds the ultimate solution to kill the Dark Lord." He finished with a particular labor in his breath as if sharing that considerable responsibility had cost him.

"But now that we might have found a solution for the Headmaster's curse... all of our work would go wasted... and besides, you would be hated by all Hogwarts, the Order... it would be so unfair!" She shrieked in disbelief.

"I know, that's why I thought that at least someone else should be informed about this." Had he really thought of her as his secret-keeper? Had he really thought that she could be good enough, capable enough, intelligent enough to be able to carry that sacred information?

"But we had found a solution for the curse." She kept saying dumbfounded as soon as she recovered from the sudden surge of pride that swelled in her chest.

"We can't know for certain: we have not brewed and tested it. It might have worked as it might have not. We don't have time, Granger: the Dark Lord wants Dumbledore dead in a week. We don't have enough time." He looked so strained, so fatigued by that knowledge, by that responsibility, by the thought of what he had to do in some days.

Before she could think about it, she neared him, her steps reaching his side without her conscious will. He didn't move; he didn't flinch, he stayed there as his mind was so hurt and pained not to notice her sudden proximity. Only when she reached out with a hand to touch his robed shoulder, he did look at her nearing figure. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, not caring about what could happen or how that situation may look compromising, how the Headmaster's words rang true in his ear now.

As soon as she realized he was not going to back away, she slowly moved her arms from his shoulders to his neck, and before he could do anything else, she engulfed him in a tight hug, not at all bothered that someone could come in in any moment.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she got on her toes to reach his ear.

He didn't move, it looked like he had even stopped breathing, but before she could chastise herself for her blind instinct, she felt his arms – slowly, tentatively – come around her waist.

"It is so unfair." She kept murmuring out of shock, partly due to her disbelief at what she had just heard and partly due to the desire to give him some solace.

* * *

Damn him and damn her! And Damn Dumbledore! Had he not doubted his more than respectful intentions, insinuating a more profound attachment, he would not have thought about it! He would not have realized how much he depended on the girl already, efficiently as well as emotionally.

He had not been able to stop staring at her all the time she had been in that room, from when she had entered to now that she was hugging him with all her might.

He couldn't help but be enamored of the strong resolution he had seen in her eyes as she had grabbed his hand while she had uttered the solemn words that would link her to him forever.

She had not backed away, she had stayed, she had wanted to stay, and he had wanted so badly for her to stay, at least her. And she had looked at that impossible request in his eyes and had accepted it with not even the slightest hesitation. How could he not fall for the firm belief she had in him? How could he not fall into those soft hands that gripped his neck firmly? How could he not fall for her sad whispers of solace? How could he not fall for her desire to stay?

He hugged her, too. He just couldn't help it as his hands seemed to move around her waist on their own accord, as his fingers caressed her back trying to infuse a sense of strength he had completely lost, especially with her in his arms, pleading him of something uncertain, indistinct, but asking anyway.

"I'm not giving up; I'm going to brew the potion." She said firmly at one point, her hands grabbing his shoulders still so tightly that he didn't know if he could wriggle out of her arms even if he had wanted to.

"We don't have time. I have to talk to Malfoy as soon as possible, I can't waste other time." He replied in a deep hush. She shivered in his arms.

"I will do it." She exclaimed with no hesitation.

"It is too complicated, and you don't know the quantities for each ingredient... it is too experimental, even for me." Making a healing cream out of a potion: it undoubtedly was not something that could be obtained by a young girl in a week.

"Let me try. Give me free access to your lab, and I will do my best. It won't hurt to try. Please, let me try." He sighed defeated, there was no way he could convince her not to do it.

"All the ingredients are in my lab. I will show them to you as soon as you can pass by." He drawled as he tried to regain some of his lost composure.

"Thank you" She whispered one last time before disentangling her hands from his neck. She touched his shoulders one last time, lingering a while longer than she should have and then she moved away, unable though to tear her gaze from his face.

"I don't want to lie to you: shall a miracle happen and should you be able to brew the potion, it would still be useless. The Headmaster has to die, or my cover would be ruined." One thing was sure: he had to kill Dumbledore. There was no way out of it.

"If he has his strength and health back then he doesn't have to die. He would be strong enough to protect himself from any attack. Even from yours." He had to restrain a smile from blossoming on his lips as he saw her delicate blush appear on her cheeks as every time she talked about his abilities.

"But then we would risk the rage of the Dark Lord, and we all know who he will take it out on." Him. Maybe the Headmaster's life would be spared, but his and Draco's would inevitably be doomed if they failed.

She seemed to get to the same conclusion as her eyes bugged out in fear.

"Then we should find a way to fake the Headmaster's death." She replied resolutely.

"Easier said than done. A killing curse, once it reaches its aim, cannot be reversed." He tugged at his tight sleeves, pondering where Mr. Mafoly could be at this hour. Would he catch him at dinner? For how much he – all of a sudden – enjoyed entertaining Granger in her impossible plans, he was quite aware there was no way out of the deed he was obliged to perform in some days.

He wondered – preoccupied – if he had broken the girl. She seemed so thoughtful as she bit her lip looking nowhere in particular. Sighing, he realized that maybe he had let his desire of not being alone in that impossible task take over him and had ignored the apparent fragility of Granger.

For once, someone had seemed surer than him. In the last week or so, she had shown out to be not only strong enough to bear some of his worst moments, but also a strange but admirable determination to change things for the better, especially him. She wanted to save him. Ah! Had not that been his dream for twenty years now? To have the chance to redeem himself? She had looked so convinced, so sure that he could, he could redeem himself, that – in part – he had already.

She cared about him, mysteriously. She cared about his opinion (he could never in a thousand years forget that fit of jealousy he felt in her memory regarding his Potions book), she cared about his welfare so much to... touch him in order to give him some relief from the Cruciatus curse, she cared about his future for she didn't want him to be hated nor to be dead. And, strangely as it was, in some ways he cared for her, too.

Sighing deeply, he realized he should have protected her and not let his desire cloud his judgment. Once again, he had made a stupid mistake.

"Draught of living death." She startled him as she exclaimed triumphantly. What?

"Come again?" He drawled confused as she shook her head in a certain superior disapproval of his distraction.

"If the Headmaster took a Draught of living death, it would look like an apparent death. It could work!" Her excitement was preventing him from thinking seriously over it.

"But I should still cast a killing curse." The Dark Lord had to be convinced of the Headmaster's death.

"Sir, I'm sure that you are a powerful enough wizard to pretend to be casting a curse while you are not." She replied with a little knowing smile accompanied by a diffuse blush on her cheeks. He stopped breathing for a moment: he could not fall for the girl!

"A killing curse is much more complicated than any other curse. It could be dangerous, too dangerous. What distinguishes the Unforgivables from all the other curses is the strong intention you have to put behind it while casting the curse. The Dark Arts are tricky and difficult to master because of this same reason. This is why the Dark Lord is unbeatable in them. I have to admit that it is an... ingenious solution, the least but it leaves too many things to chance." He hated to admit it but the Headmaster had been right: Granger was a very resourceful witch.

"Isn't it still better than nothing? We can try it. If we leave things how they are, if we leave the plan as it is, then the Headmaster will surely die but with this, Sir, we have an opportunity. It might not work, but there is still a chance that it could." She neared him once again with those big hopeful eyes, and he wondered how he could ever refuse her contagious optimism. She was working hard so that the Headmaster could still be alive while everything went as planned, she was working so hard so that he would not be a worse killer than he already was once the war was over.

"All right." He simply answered dumbfounded as, out of habit, those words still came out with a drawled and indifferent tone.

She smiled joyously as, out of her Gryffindor nature, she gripped his shoulders again and gave him a silent kiss on the cheek in gratitude. The time seemed to stop as they both blushed furiously at that repeated intimacy. He didn't dare move, afraid her Gryffindor nature was contagious as her enthusiasm.

"Thank you." Her joy won over her embarrassment as she moved to reach the door. He still didn't dare move.

"I'm... I have to go now, there is Professor Slughorn's party tonight, and I can't miss, but as soon as I am free, I will come to your office. If you want... if you are not too busy, we could... well... we could meet tonight, around ten. I could... that's it, if you would like, pass by for... starting to work on the potion. If it doesn't bother you, Sir." He stifled a light smile to appear on his lips at her embarrassment.

"I shall speak to Draco sooner than later so I don't know if I am to be free, for that time. But feel free to pass by to check." She smiled and nodded one last time before opening the door.

* * *

He let his shoulders fall slightly under the weight of that added responsibility. Had he done the right thing?

"She cares for you." He jolted slightly at the Headmaster's hushed voice behind his back. He narrowed his eyes in mild anger.

"And you care for her," Dumbledore added after some seconds of silence, with a light amusement that didn't go unnoticed.

"Has anybody ever told you that it is not polite to overhear conversations in which you were not included?" He scowled at the hidden figure of the Headmaster behind his desk. How come he had been so distracted not to notice the presence of Dumbledore? Hermione would be the death of him.

"I believe it might work. Her plan, I mean. I told you she would be... useful." The Headmaster came out of the darkness and Severus couldn't help but notice the amused mirth shining in his eyes. He refused to answer that provocation as he willed his heart to slow down: his life had been precarious so many times in the past twenty years, especially when he had been in front of the Dark Lord but never – never as in that moment – he feared for himself. How much did Dumbledore know of his feelings for Granger? How much would he approve of it? Would he worry about her a similar fate as Lily's?

He seemed to perceive his thoughts in some way because his face cleared out of that amused expression, swapped with one of mild curiosity and incredulity.

"For how much it may surprise you, Severus, I... do not disapprove of this unexpected affection between you and Hermione. I believe you both might have saved my life because of it and what can save some lives, Severus, is never bad. Don't chastise yourself for it." Severus didn't even blink at that answer. If possible, he stayed even stiller than when Hermione had hugged him.

"You wouldn't disapprove, shall it...?" He started carefully.

"Shall it grow? No, I would not." The Headmaster replied firmly as if not even a glimpse of doubt had ever been present in his mind at that thought.

But Severus shook his head in resignation. "I wouldn't be fair to her: I'm too old for her, and my fate is doomed: when the war is over, I will still be considered a former Death-Eater... shall we win." She deserved something better than that.

"Haven't you paid enough for your mistakes already, Severus?" The Headmaster's tone – if possible – sounded even more pained than his.

"Even if I have, my life won't be easy after the war, even less during it and we both know what we are going to face when this all starts. She might feel something now, out of compassion and out of the excitement of the war but what after? Would she still put up with her harsh Potions Professor, former Death-Eater and scary Bat of the Dungeons? I'm not for her, Albus." His frustration overcame him as his anger let itself be shown in his drawled tone.

"Don't underestimate her, Severus. You have done so once, and you had to re-think yourself. I believe she understood you much better than you think and that is why she cares for you." He hated the amused self-confidence he could hear in the Headmaster's voice. Before he could answer back, though, the Headmaster had disappeared once again, and he feared that he would not be back. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the door, his billowing robes following behind him as he strode to the dungeons in search of Draco. He hoped to find him as soon as possible, but he didn't want to admit to himself what was the real reason behind all that rush.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: First update of the year! I feel just so thrilled about it! Something interesting happens in this chapter and I would really like to know your opinion about it, my dear readers!**

 **A really special thanks to my wonderful Beta Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

She was late.

Hermione had finished talking with Snape at 7:30 PM and by the time she had run back to her room to change, everybody had already been enjoying Slughorn's party.

Had she really just swore an Unbreakable Vow with Snape? Had she really just hugged Snape? She didn't know which of the two was more unbelievable than the other.

She cared for him. She had understood that for a while now, maybe from when she had realized she had been jealous of a stupid book. She had thought – at that time – it had been some intellectual jealousy, that it was normal after she had been working with her Professor side by side every day for over a month. It was natural that some intellectual attachment would develop and that it would demand some... exclusivity. It was a professional understanding, a – if she wanted to exaggerate – platonic love.

And that was what she had been telling herself for some time until she had discovered who her Professor really was. She had known him for six years and for six years she and her friends had doubted his good nature. It had been so easy to believe him the bad guy, so easy to pin that uncomfortable role on him. And he had wanted it, too. Snape had wished for them to believe he was the antagonist, the dark Bat of the Dungeons, gloomy and harsh. They had all fallen for it.

And then, she had fallen for him.

She sighed, putting her school robes back in her wardrobe and grabbing the dress she had chosen for the party. She had fallen for him. Fallen for his fake indifference that just enticed her more to uncover it, to see what was so precious that was hidden behind it and, surprisingly, sometimes she had been able to catch glimpses of his true self, and now she just couldn't stop.

Or had she fallen for him before? And that was the cause that had ignited her impossible and indomitable curiosity?

She blamed him too. He had given up after a while, digging after digging, he had given in under her pressure, he had given in at the same desire to be understood by someone. And she had been the victim... or was she executioner? Did it matter in the end?

She was in love with him. She was in love with Severus Snape, current (but not true) Death-Eater, Bat of the Dungeons, and harsh but amazing Potions Master.

Would she be able to spare him the terrible fate of being the Headmaster's killer? He had protected them all for years, the least she could do was to try to defend him from that damning destiny. She had to succeed.

Did he love her, too? She was undoubtedly not an expert in that field, but she had felt it, some primordial instinct had made it so clear, and she couldn't have mistaken that gaze in a thousand years, nor the touch. No, it was not a friendly touch. It had been more; there was a link between them. She had felt it and he had felt it, too. It had been so evident, so evident that she couldn't help but wonder how the Headmaster himself had not realized it. Or had he?

She blushed. Merlin, she hated how all her emotions about Snape were always so evident on her face. She envied him for his unique capacity to hide his feelings. Even thinking about him in her room, all alone, would have her blush. The Headmaster? She wondered how the whole school didn't know it already.

* * *

She reached Slughorn's party later than sooner. Her dress wouldn't let her walk fast enough as she would have liked and a shower and some mild make-up had taken her almost an hour.

Nobody seemed to notice her tardiness, though: everybody was already off dancing around the decorated room and just a few – maybe laggards as her – were trying to fish something at the buffet unnoticed.

She spotted Harry chatting with Luna and... Mr. Worple himself. Wondering whether she should go near them or not, she looked around the room just to catch the sight of a full-robed Professor Snape looking – as always in his most formal outfits – menacing and unapproachable; a trait that, instead of scaring her lately, enticed her just more to get nearer to him.

He seemed to notice her at that same moment and – though she might be mistaken – she thought she had seen a flare of excitement shine in his black eyes. It all lasted but a moment as he only nodded his head in her direction in the mildest form of greeting. She reciprocated the gesture before deciding to move her attention somewhere else before she could embarrass herself. Why had he not told her that he would be at Slughorn's party? She tried to feign indifference as best as she could as she analyzed the room in search of Draco but he was nowhere to be seen, she didn't even know whether he was part of the Slug Club.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed behind her, and she had to muster all of her patience not to scream in annoyance at his sneaky steps. She hoped Snape had not seen her or he would be disappointed in her lack of attention.

"Harry! Hi! Nice party, eh?" He looked... normal, too normal for what he was supposed to know about Voldemort. Both the Headmaster and Snape had not told her what the crucial information was for killing him and now she couldn't help but be curious about it. Would Harry tell her or was she not supposed to know?

"I thought you had just entered." He asked skeptically.

"I did." She replied lamely: she had tried to look indifferent, and she had obtained the opposite reaction.

"You have not missed much anyway. Worple is less interesting than we all thought." She was lucky that her interlocutor was less attentive than she was. How was it possible that they had survived with that dull attitude for six years after everything they had had to face?

"Actually Hermione, I wanted to talk to you and Ron but... in private. I have already told Ron we could meet up later in the Common room, hoping that everybody will have gone to sleep by then. It is... urgent and important." He said solemnly as even in that moment he looked around to make sure nobody was hearing them.

"Of course. We could leave the party sooner, if you want." She added; she had come, she had been there for more than five minutes, she had openly stared at her Professor for half of the time, and now she could surely go. She had played her part. Besides, she had to talk to Snape, and she didn't know how much time Harry would keep them in the Common room and – sincerely - she didn't know if she could afford another night without sleep.

"But you have just arrived, maybe you would like to stay a bit longer." She smiled dearly at the politeness of her friend.

"I have already had enough; we can go anytime." She repeated as – unexpected by everyone – Argus Filch dragged in Draco. For a few minutes, nobody talked, and they were openly staring the scene. Politely, Professor Slughorn gave Draco permission to stay, but Snape intervened asking Draco for a word in private. Draco himself didn't seem quite happy about the turn the events had taken but he didn't have the chance to protest as the sharp glare of his Head of House kept him at bay.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Harry exclaimed with a suspiciousness she had not heard in a while in his voice and before she could say something to justify the unjustifiable scene – at least at Harry's eyes – she was dragged by her friend to follow the two Slytherins.

* * *

They happened in a corridor just out of the office, hiding behind a stone wall as they spied on the scene that unfurled before them. It looked like Draco nor Snape had heard them coming right behind them and was oblivious of their presence, Snape pushed Draco against the wall not too gently as they could see Draco's flinch of pain as his back crashed to the wall.

Not satisfied enough, though, Snape grabbed him by the collar underlining the height difference between the two. "Listen to me; I'm trying to help you Draco, I swore to your mother that I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow..." Snape hissed, not too low as they could still hear each distinct word of the conversation.

"Looks like you will have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me, and I'm doing it. I've got a plan, and it is going to work. It's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would" Draco tried to regain some of his haughty composure, but it paled compared to the anger that was shown on Professor Snape's face.

"You don't know who you are messing with, Draco. I have no intention of stealing your glory if that is what you thought, but I have no intention of losing my life either. If you refuse my help, we will both die, is that what you want?" At the harsh words of his Professor, Draco paled even more than when Filch had dragged him into Slughorn's office.

"I... I don't, I... just..."

But his hesitation was interrupted by Snape's usual drawl. "Meet me in my office in ten minutes. Shall you not be there, I will do it my way, and I can't assure you how it might end." He threatened as even Hermione couldn't refrain from gulping as those words seemed to promise the worse in his most potent tone. He then stormed away with his billowing cloak leaving a dark trail behind his back and a Draco completely drained out cascading on the floor.

"Still convinced that Snape is on our side?" Her eyes were still fixed on the pale figure of Draco when Harry's sarcasm interrupted her thoughts.

"Don't take everything for granted, Harry, we don't know what exactly there is behind that conversation." But she knew it was useless: that conversation had been shady, had she not known what was behind it and she didn't forget that she could never reveal it to Harry.

"How can you still defend him after what you have just seen?" Hermione pushed herself off the wall, starting to walk away from the cold hallway and directing herself to the Common Room, sure that Harry would follow her. She didn't have much time, it was already 9 PM, and she could feel the effects of a night without sleep as she dragged herself over the seven flights of stairs to reach her dorm.

"Because Dumbledore trusts him." But she knew it was a pathetic excuse and anyway, soon enough, she would not be able to defend him anymore, even if he succeeded in their plan.

"It's obvious that Dumbledore is unaware of what he has been up doing, we all were. We have been fooled, Hermione!" She angrily put a finger to her lips to shush him.

"Don't shout, Harry! We don't know who could be hearing!" She reprimanded him as she looked around making sure nobody was around. Harry made to look around them in haste, too, and as soon as he was sure nobody was on the moving stairway with them, he resumed his theories about Snape and his double game.

"We have to tell Dumbledore, Hermione! He has to know what's happening behind his back!" She knew it was impossible to convince him not to act so hastily on mere assumptions. It would be a waste of time, and she could only hope that he would speak to Dumbledore first, in the hope that the Headmaster would be able to quiet him on the subject in some way, before he may act on his suspects.

"Alright, alright! We will tell him... tomorrow." And with that reluctant promise, she was able to make him calm down all the way to the dorm.

* * *

"So, let's see if I got it right: the Dark... Voldemort has, years ago, hidden fragments of his soul in different objects – called Horcruxes – in order of obtaining immortality, which can only be achieved after murdering for in this way the soul would be already damaged and fragmented. That is why he was able to come back after all those years." Hermione said as she tried to make sense of all the information Harry had just given them.

"That's it, yes." He replied with sureness, nodding his head.

"So if we destroy these Horcruxes-" continued Ron. "-we would kill Voldemort once and for all?" Harry kept nodding with enthusiasm.

"How many are there?" Hermione asked as, every once in a while, she checked the clock: 9.30 PM. Would Snape have already finished his chat with Draco?

"We don't know for certain, but Dumbledore suspects that there are quite a few of them. We have already destroyed one unknowingly: Riddle's diary." He replied triumphantly.

"So now what? I mean, how do we find all the others? How do we destroy them?" Ron kept asking as his eyes looked still a bit confused.

"Dumbledore and I should go looking for one in a few days. We think that Voldemort has hidden parts of his soul in objects that could have a special meaning for him, such as his diary. So this is what we are trying to do: look back in Dumbledore's memories regarding Riddle to understand which objects may be potential Horcruxes." He replied with a certain pride. "About how to destroy them, I destroyed his diary with a Basilisk fang, but Dumbledore is convinced that there are other ways. We are working on it." So Harry had been working in strict contact with Dumbledore just as she had with Snape. It reassured her as she could feel a bit of her guilt melt away at that notion. She knew, though, that if Harry had confessed everything now, for her, it would take much longer, maybe even months, before she could tell them everything or even just a part of it.

"Alright... so what do we do in the meantime? I mean, Hermione and I." She hoped that Harry's reply would be a resounding "nothing" for she didn't have time for some other crusade.

"Hermione and I have just listened to an interesting conversation between Snape and Draco. I believe -" and Harry didn't spare himself a meaningful and hurt look at her at those words. "- that Snape is betraying us and he is actually working for Voldemort." She sighed defeated: if defending Snape would be difficult now, she wouldn't imagine how it would be like once he killed Dumbledore – for real or for pretense.

"Why? What's happened?" Ron asked confused as he got nearer to them, forgetting Harry had performed a Muffliato even if the Common Room was deserted.

"Snape said that he had made an Unbreakable Vow to Draco's mother to protect him. Malfoy has been given a task, a difficult task, by Voldemort and Snape had insisted that Draco should let him give him a hand." Harry explained with a certain fire of spite.

"An Unbreakable Vow? Are you sure?" Ron asked in disbelief with gouged out eyes.

"Yes, why?" She already knew what was to come.

"Because if he is not able to keep up with his oath, he will die," Ron replied solemnly and she could almost re-hear Snape's voice warning her of that danger when they had been in the Headmaster's office.

"But then why...?" Harry said confused, his eyes locking with theirs in search of a plausible explanation.

"It makes no sense: why would Snape risk his life for Draco?" He repeated when none of them had come up with an explanation as if by repeating the question there were more chances that an answer would come right before their eyes.

She knew why and they could not know. Not now, maybe ever.

"Anyway, we have to tell Dumbledore." He kept repeating as if whatever cause might be behind it wouldn't change the outcome of his resolution.

"I don't know; maybe we should wait a bit longer. I believe that maybe Dumbledore knows something already: it is impossible that something as huge as this could have escaped his notice. Maybe, he has included Snape's betrayal in his plan already." Ron spoke with a certain diplomacy, hoping to cool his friend's heated mood but Harry wouldn't have it. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What? Now you agree with Hermione? How can you be so blind not to notice Snape's real loyalties?" He stood up enraged, his shoulders stiff as his burning green eyes were fixed on them both.

"And how can Dumbledore be so blind not to notice it, Harry? There must be an explanation." She intervened as she hoped that her answer would give him a little of lost good sense back.

"Because he trusts him, maybe because he is as blind as you two are." And with that last enraged remark, the conversation was over. He took his wand out and finished his silence spell before walking to his dorm in pure fury.

"Don't mind him, Hermione, it's the connection with Voldemort that makes him act so weird," Ron reassured her as they stood up, too. It was 10 PM already. She hoped Snape was still up for their conversation.

"I know, Ron, I know. It is just a matter of time now." She added solemnly as her gaze was still fixed on the spot on the stairway where Harry had disappeared. Ron didn't seem to catch the full meaning of what she had just said and, after all, he really could not, but he nodded his assent anyway.

* * *

She ran through the corridors, her wand in hand ready to cast a Disillusionment Charm if needed; but nobody was around, and she briefly wondered if they were all still at Slughorn's party or if they had gone to bed already. It was quite early to go to bed, though, in a day like that: it seemed as if even in the air the darker moments that were soon to come could be smelled.

In less than ten minutes she reached the dungeons. She had not even had the time to change herself, and in the end, she didn't mind to be seen dolled up for once by Snape. That night his robes – if possible – had been even more seductive than ever. She smiled a ridiculous smile, and she could feel her cheeks burn up at the memory of his profound gaze staring her as soon as she had entered Slughorn's office.

This time, not wanting to leave anything to chance, she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself before approaching the little wooden door down the tight corridor.

She whispered the password, and she was in.

He was already there, sitting on his couch, his legs crossed and his back straight. His long black hair formed a gentle curtain on his hidden face as his eyes were concentrating on a book on his lap. He looked regal, controlled, calm. Hermione envied his control. She sensed, with no doubt, that he had been waiting for her.

Fast, she finished her charm, and she appeared right in front of him with her coiffed hair and pretty dress. Finally, slowly, he raised his head, and his black eyes were once again visible. She could almost see his breath catch in his chest at her sight, even though he looked wholly collected if not for his pupils that shone more brightly than ever.

She stood there, incapable of moving, as she enjoyed being watched by him with that cracked composure. He stood up, slowly, his eyes never wavering away from her figure as he took two slow steps towards her and only then, she snapped out of her stillness.

Without breaking her eyes away from his, she neared him just as slowly, and every step seemed to take longer than a lifetime as if with each step she was sealing a significant achievement. He stood still, no matter how nearer to him she got, he didn't move, he didn't back away from her slow progression, and that impossible immobility pushed her to dare more. She stopped just when she felt her breast touch his sternum. Her gaze was finally distracted by his fast breaths: his nostrils flared, his chest moved ferociously against hers as if the air that came through every broad movement was still not enough and in his usual scowl he looked almost... enraged at her bold behavior and at his stillness that wouldn't budge under his will.

She lifted her hand to his chest - always too slowly - and she grazed every button that she would encounter in the path that would let her fingers reach the skin on his neck. At the first touch, his chest heaved one last time, profoundly, before stopping for some seconds, as if that first touch on his bare skin had been almost unbearable. Then, with a little burst, his chest moved again under the weight of her arm.

She lifted her gaze on his eyes once again, and his face seemed gentler with his scowl almost gone as if – finally – he had decided to lose that internal battle and to give in to her tender and tentative ministrations. She celebrated her victory getting on her toes to reach his lips with hers, for – for how much he had decided to let her win – he would not make it easier for her by lowering his head a little. She could feel his raging breath on her lips, and she could see his giant pupils fix her mouth with an uncontrollable desire. She admired his control but, more than all, she admired the lack of hers. Closing her eyes, she closed that little distance and finally, her lips touched his, softly, almost imperceptibly. He still didn't dare move, though by then her body was pressed entirely against his and her lips had no intention of moving away from his mouth.

And so – she thought – finally they kissed. His lips didn't part at the pressure of hers, but she didn't give up in front of his stupid obstinacy to resist her, as if, by not responding to her lips, he had not done anything inappropriate. Affronted by that stubborn resistance, she became bolder, and her hands gripped his neck tightly, almost painfully as she let her tongue slip out and lick his unmovable lips. And just then, with a grunt of disapproval mixed to relief, he finally let his lips move under her unbearable pressure. She couldn't help a moan of approval from escaping her mouth as she pushed her body more firmly into his. As his control crumbled altogether at her insistent impudence, he moved his hands around her hips, pressing them so gently into him.

Too excited by his sudden compliance and eagerness, she had to detach her lips from his mouth for a while to take her breath back. His pupils, if possible, were even larger than before and she had never seen a more erotic image than his lips swollen by their kiss than his breath made furious by their excitement and than his hair disheveled by her hands. What she had in front of her was a Professor Snape who had lost control for her and nothing had ever aroused her more.

She kept looking at him with a look of total adoration. Her hands resumed their caresses but more gently on his face, tracing each and one of his particular traits, and he looked... content with this attention as his hands couldn't help but trace her back in a gentle and almost distracted caress.

Taking back his control sooner than her, he started talking in his usual deep drawl, but she appreciated that his hands were still on her body, cuddling her, soothing her.

"I spoke to Draco an hour ago: it is just a matter of days now." He whispered more soothingly than ever as if their incapacity to find a solution sooner would have more consequences on her than on him.

"I still want to try to brew the potion. Besides, we could still try to save Dumbledore and then resume our project as soon as things calm down." She replied with her usual enthusiasm, heightened by the concrete hope that she could have more of him.

"We cannot risk being discovered if we are not sure that the Headmaster will be truly healed by the potion." She couldn't help but wonder what those words, in fact, implied. If the Dark Lord discovered out their plan, if they could not carry it out as planned, the consequences would fall on Snape. Would it be worth it?

"Then I will start brewing the potion right away and I won't stop till I succeed." She replied almost enraged by his lack of faith in her. The truth, though, was that – deep down – she also didn't believe it could truly work, not in such short time.

He raised a confused and hurt eyebrow at her outburst. "Suit yourself but remember that you still have to go to classes. We can't risk that our collaboration is made public. We are walking a thin line here, Granger, don't forget it." He reminded her with a certain bitterness as he let his arms fall from around her hips. She missed that little soothing touch immediately.

"I'm quite aware of it. How much time?" She asked in a rash as she tried to calculate the spare hours she could use to brew the potion.

"We have time until Monday, perhaps till Tuesday: Draco has almost succeeded in mending the Vanishing Cabinet situated in the Room of Requirement. In this way, other Death-Eaters will witness the peril of Dumbledore at his hand or – much more probably – at mine." He reached his desk, grabbed some unpaired parchments and, giving one last look at them, he handed them to her.

"This is all I could do in the little free time I had. I also bought some thickeners and all the ingredients - the ones we went through a couple of days ago - are all aligned on the desk in my office. You should also brew the Draught of The Living Dead. I shall meet the Dark Lord to inform him about mine and Draco's plan now, but as soon as I come back, I will try to help you brew the potion. Obviously, don't try anything that may have an uncertain outcome until I am back." He then went to his room and retrieved his black cloak and mask. She stood there, not capable yet of moving to his office, as if something was clearly missing.

As soon as he emerged back from his bedroom, she neared him with tentative steps. "Please, be careful." She added in a silent whisper, suddenly ashamed of her apparent preoccupation for his well-being.

He hinted a small – almost tender – smile, a gesture so comfortingly unusual for him. "I will try not to be away too long." And even as he finished pronouncing those words, he stood there just like her. She took that clear chance to near him some more and to raise her hand to caress his face. It was a gesture that had soon become so dear to her: she liked having the possibility, the permission even, to touch him so tenderly. She understood quickly enough that he was still not ready to initiate even the gentlest of touches with her, but she didn't mind as long as he wanted her to. It was so clear with his ragged breath and his large dark pupils, and she couldn't help a tiny smile of satisfaction at those unmistakable signs. Once again, she rose on her toes, still so surprised of his height compared to hers, and gave him a soft brush on the lips. She was shocked when, before having a chance to get back to her work, he grabbed her hips and deepened their kiss with a soft groan of relief. Oh Merlin, if that unusual and so private sound didn't go directly to her core as her cheeks ignited with the sweetest excitement. But as soon as it had started, he pulled away and exited the room in a rush, his billowing cloak the only sign of his sudden departure.

It took her more than ten minutes before she was composed enough to start the potion without having the castle crumbling down.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Some more sweetness, folks, hope you like it!**

 **A giant and huge thank you to my wonderful and amazing Beta Reader, MWolfe13.**

* * *

It would be for the better.

That was what the Headmaster kept repeating to himself as he paced back and forth in his office waiting for Minerva to meet him. Strangely as it was, he was nervous after all this time. His old age had given him plenty of advantages: wisdom, patience, experience but, more than all, resignation to a fate that could not be overcome. And instead, now, he found himself enflamed by the hope that Severus and Hermione had given him: he had a chance to stay alive and help Harry and the Order defeat Tom.

Had he not waited for that day for so long now that he could not even remember?

Decades ago, he had appreciated Tom's exceeding capacities and skills or, to tell the truth, he had admired them. Not even for one moment, had he expected that those beautiful capabilities would be used in destroying the Wizarding world. He should have predicted, there had been – after all – so many signs.

And now he had lost thousands of people he had cared for. He had promised himself that he would not let something like that happen again and that he would sacrifice all his life in the effort to destroy what he had underestimated and let grow years before.

He was ready to die. He had lived long enough, he had made his mistakes, he had had his desires of power, he had tamed them, he had tried to repair what wrongs he had made, and now Albus was ready to sacrifice his life for that cause.

But then what? He could not picture a happy scenario after his death. Harry would be devastated, and he would look for revenge. Severus would be considered the worst Death-Eater in history, to the same extent of Tom himself. Hermione would stand divided between helping Harry in finding the Horcruxes and trying to support Severus. Minerva would hate Severus as would all the Order.

If he lived all that would happen anyway, but he would be able to help Harry find the other Horcruxes in the shadows, and Tom's dominion would end sooner, hopefully.

But if that plan had to work, though, he had to give Hermione and Severus time to brew the potion. It was just a matter of days now and he knew that it was an impossible task even if they worked 24/ 24 hours.

He had thought about that all afternoon and the only way to maintain pretenses and to give them some more hours was to include Minerva in their plan.

He couldn't help an amused smile appearing on his lips at that thought. That witch would hate him as soon as he informed her of that absurd and impossible idea.

* * *

Just then, Minerva entered the room with her usual stern frown. "Good Evening, Albus. Have you thought about some other absurd plan in which you would like to include me, too?" Just as if she had read his mind.

"Good evening to you, too, my dear. I would not describe it as absurd since it went even beyond my expectations in its fulfillment." He replied with a smug smile he could not refrain.

With that amused and superior expression, Dumbledore gained a dubious arched eyebrow. "I believe I don't want to know what that may mean." And with that, she neared a cabinet to grasp a bottle of Firewhisky, a habit she had taken recently every time she met with her superior.

"Anyway, indeed I would like to discuss with you an extension of the task on which Severus and Hermione are working on." Minerva seemed to catch the change of his playful tone soon as she reached her chair to sit across from him.

"You know about my curse, Minerva, and you know about the cure Severus and Hermione were trying to brew. But lately, with Severus, I had carried on some plans where you were excluded for your own welfare and security. But now that Hermione might have found an unorthodox solution to a huge quantity of problems, your help may not only be useful but even necessary." He affirmed with his most soothing tone in the attempt to soften the notion of her previous exclusion.

"Go on." She replied with a certain severe stern as she was not fooled by his gentle sweet-talk.

"You know very well that my curse is incurable and a part of me always believed that Severus and Hermione would never be able to brew a cure. So, I thought the second plan with Severus, in a way that we could all get the best out of an impossible situation. Tom has ordered Draco to kill me this summer, and I thought that if Severus killed me rather than Draco, we would have gained multiple results. Severus would spare me a painful death; he would gain a stronger position with Tom. He no doubt would be appointed Hogwarts new Headmaster. He would indirectly help Harry find Tom's soul pieces to defeat him, and ultimately Draco's soul would be saved. It was, all in all, a perfect plan. But then Hermione surprised both me and Severus by thinking a new solution: they might have found a cure and more than that, they might have found a way to still fake my death in front of the Death-Eaters." He stopped his slow explanation for a while as he saw Minerva shake her head in enraged disbelief.

"How could you not tell me all this sooner, Albus?" He couldn't help a slight flinch of surprise at the plain hurt he could hear in her voice.

"Had I told you, you would have stopped me, Minerva." He replied with a gentle smile in his eyes.

"Of course I would have! Letting yourself be killed willingly is never a good solution! Besides, how could you ever burden Severus with responsibility as huge as that? I know he had been a loyal Death-Eater once, but it would still be the greatest punishment he would have ever received!" She stood up enraged, a few hair escaping her perfect coiffure.

"It would have been an act of compassion, Minerva, not a cruel punishment!" His voice altered by that unexpected accusation.

"Sometimes even an act of compassion might be cruel punishment." She replied as she took her composure back.

"Indeed but this surely was never my intention. As I anticipated you, Severus and Hermione might have found a cure but they have just a few days left and-" But Minerva's harsh voice cut his quickly.

"When?" She demanded to know.

"Monday or Tuesday" He admitted with a mild resignation.

"What do you want me to do? I can't help them." She shook her head, still enraged disbelief.

"You have to give them time, especially Hermione. She can't be seen with Severus, and she can't disappear out of the blue in the middle of the school year for some days." He added hopefully.

"They will never be able to make it, Albus, you must know that." But she avoided answering his question yet.

"Believe me, Minerva, there are many things I never thought could ever happen or work and instead, instead..." He replied solemnly as he waited for her final answer.

"Alright, tomorrow morning at breakfast I will ask Hermione to collaborate on an advanced project in Transfiguration." She answered, resigned, drinking the last two drops of Firewhisky.

"Thank you, Minerva." He affirmed with a certain seriousness before his eyes started to shine with his usual gentle twinkle again. "Perfect, then! We should inform Hermione and Severus right away." He got up from his chair, nearing the Floo in his study.

"It is 11 PM, Albus; I'm sure that at least Hermione is sleeping by now."

But all she got as an answer was an enigmatic and amused: "I'm sure she is not." Before the Headmaster disappeared in the greenish halo of the Floo powder. Sighing defeated, Minerva grabbed a handful of powder and went right behind him to Headmaster Snape's quarters.

* * *

"Damn it!" Hermione exclaimed as she observed the product of all her efforts: a liquid potion of indescribable color. She had followed her every instruction, and it surely was meant to be cream, a good solid greenish cream, not a liquid of an indistinct color.

She grabbed her annotations roughly, going through them once again until she spotted the possible error. Giving a quick glance at the clock, she saw that it was almost 11 PM and Snape was not back yet. She couldn't help a pang of concern to rise in her stomach. He had been gone for over an hour, and he had told her that he would be back as soon as possible. Had something gone wrong? Voldemort had understood that something was off? Was he torturing him?

Shaking her head, she concentrated on her work once again. It would take her at least another hour to brew another concoction, and she didn't know if she had enough strength and energy to do it. She needed to sleep!

Just as she was daydreaming about her warm bed, the door of the office opened. As soon as she spotted Snape on the barely lit threshold, she rushed to his side.

"Are you fine?" She asked looking for injuries or tremors.

"Yes." He drawled succinctly as he looked down at her with a little-amused twinkle in his eyes. She composed herself as soon as her eyes had finished her thorough check-up.

He moved around her and closed the door. "So how did it go?" She asked when she couldn't bear the suspense anymore.

"Fine. I was able to convince the Dark Lord to let me help Draco in his deed." He replied as he closed his eyes tiredly.

"Good. I have been trying to work on the potion but so far, no luck." She admitted defeated.

"You should sleep for a while. You can start working on the potion again tomorrow." He opened the door to his personal quarters and went straight to his couch, sitting on it with relief. Hermione reached him, happy to let her limbs rest for a while.

"Tomorrow I have got lessons all day; I have to work on it now." She replied with a tired determination. His head rested on the soft headrest of the couch, turned to look at her.

"I know, but lack of sleep creates a lot of mental mistakes, which are never to be underestimated. You have to rest, Granger. You can come back as soon as your lessons are over with a fresh mind." He insisted, but his tone lacked his usual severeness.

Just as she was about to follow his more than appealing suggestion, the Floo connection spurted to life, and a dusted Headmaster appeared out of it, soon followed by Professor McGonagall. Nor Hermione nor Snape moved at the sight before them, too tired to even think about the strange and peculiar domesticity they embodied at that moment as they lay sprawled on the couch in abandon.

"Good evening, Severus and Hermione." They nodded their greetings in return, incapable of emitting a sound.

"I'm really sorry for the late hour but I was correct in believing you could still be awake. I have some positive interesting news to give to you, if you are not too tired? It will take just a couple of minutes, I promise to be concise as much as I can." Again, they nodded their agreement, their heads not moving from the comfort of the soft headrest.

"Very well then: I deemed necessary to inform Professor McGonagall about our progressions. First of all, because I was wrong in believing that Minerva would be safer by not knowing what we had planned, nor Severus' cover would be more in danger if she did. Therefore, Minerva and I have thought about a simple device to give Hermione more time to brew the potion in these next few days. We are approaching Thursday in a few minutes, and we need as much spare time as possible. Minerva will inform Hermione of a new special and advanced project to which she would like Hermione to participate tomorrow morning at breakfast. This, Hermione, will give you the chance to spend your days and afternoons in Severus' office to brew the potion with him. Every morning, after breakfast, you will go to Minerva's office. From there, you can use the Floo connection to reach Severus' quarters and vice-versa in the evening. Well, I believe this is all." He ended with a triumphal smile.

"I wonder if you had Minerva swear for you an Unbreakable Vow as well." Snape commented as he regained his sternest composure: his shoulders rigidly straight, his head kept high, his scowl severe with his frowned eyebrows.

"No, Severus, I did not deem it necessary since Minerva has fewer chances to come across stressful and dangerous situations as Hermione." The Headmaster replied in his most soothing tone as he folded his hands neatly on his lap.

Snape sneered enraged and stood up as well to face the Headmaster. "That is a lie, Headmaster. Minerva has chances to meet dangerous Death-Eaters as much as Hermione. Once the school is taken by the Dark Lord, who do you think is going to rule it?" Hermione jumped awake as she heard her name slip from his lips again and she couldn't help but stand up as well and near Snape's stiff figure to support him in some way. She had not minded swearing an Unbreakable Vow for him - she had no intention to betray him even in the hardest of times - but she felt compelled by his vigorous defense to give him her supporting presence by his side.

The Headmaster noticed her sudden activity as his gaze moved from Snape to her and his eyes started twinkling with a certain amusement. "I'm more than sure that Tom's priority will be to reach Harry as soon as possible. As you well know, Harry won't be in the castle after my death, but he will be looking for Horcruxes, accompanied – I'm sure – by Hermione and Ron. Tom's cavalry will be sent after them as soon as the news of their departure from Hogwarts is made known. In the not too much remote – I'm afraid – possibility that one of them will be abducted, even with all our efforts to avoid something like this to happen, our most secretive information will be safe." The Headmaster replied diplomatically.

Snape sustained the Headmaster's twinkling gaze, ready to add something else when McGonagall herself intervened with an unusual maternal tone. "We will make sure that it won't happen, Severus. We will keep track of them every minute, if necessary." Snape's eyes moved on the till then silent figure of McGonagall, and after some other seconds of tension, his posture relaxed.

"I'm sure-" McGonagall added. "-that Hermione will update us as soon as possible if she sees something unusual." And all of a sudden all of their gazes turned to her.

"Of course." She replied as she mustered all the self-confidence she had. Just at that personal reassurance, Snape finally nodded his assent.

"We will discuss further details tomorrow afternoon as soon as my lessons are over. We will decide how to keep in touch once the plan starts; how to help Harry, Hermione and Ron find Horcruxes; where the Headmaster is going to stay, shall he survive; and about your progress on the potion." She had always known that Professor McGonagall was not only an excellent teacher and Head of House but also a strong Scottish woman who wasn't afraid to take charge when the situation called for it. Nevertheless, the sudden control she had over the situation amazed her, and she couldn't help but be proud to be a Gryffindor.

They all nodded obediently as she said, "Now I believe we all need some good rest. Hermione, I will see you tomorrow morning in the Great Hall for breakfast. Goodnight, Severus." And with that, she turned around, grabbed a handful of powder and disappeared in the greenish halo of the Floo connection.

"Well, I believe I shall go, too. I hope you have a goodnight, Hermione, Severus." She turned red as the Headmaster's gaze seemed to stall a little bit longer than usual on both of them.

* * *

Finally, they were alone.

"You shall head back to your dorm. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and you should wake up early." Snape said as his gaze was still contemplating the silent Floo connection.

"Yes, sure." She replied dumbfounded as she hurried to grab her things before heading to the little door that led to the ground floor.

"Hermione." He drawled as if he was trying to be natural as he pronounced her name for the third time. She stopped in her track, happy that he could not see her as her back was turned to him; she let herself enjoy that moment as her eyes closed in sudden but welcome bliss as every time she heard her name spoken in that slow and deep voice she had come to love.

"Yes, Sir?" She replied out of habit as she turned around to look at him. His eyebrow raised in amusement at that old appellation.

"You may call me by my first name, when we are in private if you want." He seemed to challenge her to pronounce it with his most provoking raised eyebrow. She rose to the challenge eagerly, happy to be able to have that same power he had over her, on him as well.

"It would be my pleasure, Severus." Her face burned as she saw his eyes dilate as she spoke his name with endearment as if she had waited for nothing else in her entire life but to be able to say his name out loud.

She didn't move, no, she wouldn't budge. She had kissed him, twice. The third would be on him if he wanted. He seemed to understand her line of thoughts, for he first lightly inclined his head sideways, as if incredulous of that sudden determination, then his eyes narrowed in challenge, and finally he walked towards her, painfully slow, making her suffer every minute of it.

When they were mere inches apart, he stalled for a minute, enjoying the simple activity to look at every inch of her face and body from such close proximity.

"May I?" He asked, almost afraid to be rejected even when her flaring breath had given her desire away eons ago.

"Yes." She nodded and finally, his hand raised to meet her burning cheek. She couldn't help but close her eyes to that simple but thrilling touch. He moved his fingers tentatively as if he had never touched a human being before and she was more than glad to give him all the time in the world to explore that new sensation. His eyes followed his hand's every little movement, amazed by something she couldn't know but she stood there, immobile.

Then, when he saw that she seemed to enjoy his light ministrations, his hand cupped her cheek with more determination, looking simply content to be able to do so, enjoying the possibility to touch her as he pleased, acquainting himself with that new propriety of his. He could touch her for she was his, for she was giving herself to him. She could see his eyes lightly smile with that sudden realization.

She didn't feel belittled as his hands explored her face with such rapture to completely ignore her. She felt, strangely enough, compassion: never as in that moment was clear the lack of love he had had for all his life. For the first time, she didn't only feel in love with Severus Snape, but she felt a strange and profound affection arise in her breast for him. At that moment, she loved him for she wanted to take care of him, she wanted to show him that he could receive love, that he was worthy of love.

When his fingers had had enough of the contours of her face, his hand moved slightly down, exploring her delicate neck, down to that little concavity formed by her collarbone and then up, on her jugular vein, and there he stopped, two fingers stalled to sense her maddening heart-beat. Surprised by that discovery with his lips slightly parted, his eyes moved back to hers as if asking if what he had felt was correct. But she didn't say anything as if daring him to express out aloud his curiosity and he did.

"Your heart is beating so fast." He stated almost amazed.

"I know." She replied, almost accusingly.

"I like it." He defended himself, moving his fingers back up to her face.

Hermione was burning, burning so madly she thought she was on fire, and she briefly wondered if her exposed neck and face were giving it away through a furious blush.

Incapable of bearing that only-sided delicious torture, she raised her hand to caress his face as well, returning him the favor.

His attention moved on her questing hand as she traced the same path he had done on her face and she couldn't help a look of total adoration as his curious gaze gave away his desire to be touched by a loving hand. Once again, overwhelmed by her passion, she kissed him, and this time he didn't oppose any resistance as he let his lips part under hers.

He tasted so good, so familiar, so right. It was him and she loved it, she couldn't get enough of his sweet compliance and surrender, brushing her fingers through his black hair, down to his neck, gripping his shoulders, moving him closer, damning all those robes that kept her away from his naked flesh that she wanted to feel warm under her hands, and he seemed just as much taken, as he let his hands reach her hips barely covered by the light dress she had worn for the party, advancing on the curve of her spine, up to grasp her hair and then her hot cheeks. And just when she thought that she didn't care anymore if the world fell right at that moment, the clock chimed midnight noisily in the silent air of a November night and slowly, they parted.

He cleared his voice before speaking again. "You should go back to your dorm now, tomorrow it is going to be a busy day, it would be unfair of me to keep you further." And with his voice still so row by the desire, he turned around, grabbed the jar that contained the Floo powder and handed it to her.

Taking a deep breath trying to stabilize her maddening heart, she took a handful of powder and neared the magical fireplace. "Goodnight, Severus." She whispered one last time before calling out her destination.

* * *

They had come to the Headmaster's office after their little chat with Hermione and Severus, and she could quite tell she had never been more confused and tired in her entire life.

"So?" The Headmaster initiated with an impossible smug smile on his face that she so wanted to avoid.

Sighing resigned, she answered. "They are quite... fond of each other." She admitted reluctantly.

"But-" She added with certain unnerving suspense. "- I still don't think they can make it, Albus." She added with a sweeter tone.

"How so?" But the Headmaster didn't seem at all perturbed by her skeptical statement as he fixed his eyes on the gloomy landscape out of the window.

"Because Severus wouldn't be able to brew such a potion in a year. Severus, Albus! How can you ever think that Hermione can brew it in a few days? You know that I think that Hermione is a talented witch, I have always praised her since her first year at Hogwarts, but this project is over her abilities." She explained, flustered.

"I believe it because she loves him and she won't let him down. The secret ingredient to success is love, Minerva. That is why I have put them together. I knew that it didn't matter how a capable witch Hermione is or how a wonderful Potions Master Severus is, for intelligence to succeed there must be love. And that is what I did: I put the two most capable Potions brewers I know together in the hope that they would fall in love with each other. If they succeed – and I have no doubt they will – it won't be for my sake, but because Hermione will do anything to save Severus and Severus will do everything to be up to her expectations of him. They won't let each other down, Minerva and we will be saved. I wouldn't be surprised if Severus or Hermione were the ones to defeat Tom." He chuckled amusedly as his twinkling eyes looked at Minerva as if he possessed a superior knowledge that she couldn't grasp.

"Well, that for sure cannot happen: the prophecy is quite clear-" But she didn't have the chance to end her thought.

"Oh, Minerva, don't you know that prophecies are made so that they can be changed?" And leaving a bewildered Minerva behind, the Headmaster retired to his rooms for the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: A huge thank you to my Beta-Reader, MWolfe13, without her this story would not be half as good!**

 **Reviews are always appreciated!**

* * *

Hermione woke up more tired than when she had gone to sleep the previous night. All she had had was less than six hours of real sleep and the thought of waking up, having a bath and rushing to breakfast to receive the news of her Head of House was not exactly exciting.

Nevertheless, that was what she did: she got up, she had a quick bath, she wore something nicer than she usually did under her robes – blushing at the mere thought of the reason behind that unusual choice – and she joined her friends in the Common room before walking down to the Great Hall.

As soon as she sat at her usual place, she glanced up at the High Table, looking for Severus. She spotted him immediately as always in the past two months. He was chatting with the Headmaster and, as if he had perceived her presence, he risked a glance in her direction too. Their eyes met for a few seconds before he resumed his quiet talk with Dumbledore.

Feeling satisfied to have seen him so soon in the morning, she concentrated back on her friends.

"So, Hermione, are you in?" Harry asked with a certain conspiratorial tone as she tried to understand what the hell her friends were talking about.

"Sorry, Harry, I didn't quite catch..." She shook her head apologetically.

"We were just saying that today, soon after our last lesson, we are going to talk to the Headmaster about what we discussed yesterday. Are you with us, then?" So Harry had not reflected about what she had said the previous day. She just hoped he wouldn't make waves about it.

"I..." She was about to invent some improbable excuse when Professor McGonagall appeared right behind them.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, good morning! I hope you are enjoying your breakfast? Miss Granger, may I have a word with you?" She stood up fast, maybe a little too much as she heard the platters clatter as her hands pushed too eagerly on the table, but she couldn't be happier of the perfect timing of her Professor.

They didn't go too far; a few steps were enough to pretend a sense of privacy while gaining the attention of all the diners.

She didn't hear half of the things her Professor said as her eyes were fixed on Snape's billowing cloak as he rushed away unnoticed out of the hall. Wasn't he supposed to go back to his quarters to help her?

With a shake of hands and a composed smile, her Head of House left her to her musings until her friends called her attention back.

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order, Hermione!" Harry shouted enthusiastically calling her back to the table.

"Oh, thank you!" She replied as her eyes were still chasing the billowing black cloak that had disappeared in a rush behind the giant doors of the Great Hall.

"Do you know that everybody in the room envies you right now?" Intervened Ginny as she tried to take part of the conversation.

She gave a quick glance around the room as if just realizing where she was: everybody had stopped talking or eating. All their eyes were concentrated on her lonely figure as she stood up in the middle of the strict corridor between the long tables, even her professors were looking at her with heightened curiosity. She rushed back to her seat, hoping to avoid that sudden and unwelcome attention. After all, the reason for which they had planned that little farce was to mitigate every suspect on her future absence at lessons, but it looked like they had obtained the opposite reaction.

"Now surely you know what to do as soon as you finish your NEWTs." Ron revived the conversation.

"Yes, in a year McGonagall will ask you to be her apprentice, or even sooner. That must feel... good." continued Harry as if to induce in her a bit of deserved enthusiasm that she was apparently lacking.

"We will see, there are more urgent matters at hand right now, I really can't envision a future at this moment." She replied truthfully as she thought about the impending doom that was soon to come. The outcome was entirely on her and Severus, and she didn't like the imposing pressure that thought put on her: she was called to be the hero, and it was not a role in which she had ever fit in.

"I know what you mean," Harry replied as all of them nodded sadly at that shared emotion.

"So, I guess we will see you this afternoon, soon after classes, or well, as soon as McGonagall lets you go?" She gave one last bite of her food and grabbed her things before answering.

"Yes, sure.," She lied as she rushed out of the room to head to McGonagall's office.

* * *

She knocked on the door of her Professor's office, going through her ideas about the potion once again while waiting.

Every spare minute of her day was spent thinking about the potion and, of course, about Snape... Severus, in private, or in her mind or her dirty thoughts. She had never realized how much his name was so evocative of a strong and sensual male figure. Every time she pronounced it in her head she couldn't help but associate his dark and seductive billowing cloak, his agile hands that had grabbed her waist so firmly, his expressive raised eyebrow, his soft and parted lips that caressed hers, his long black hair that her hands discovered was quite silky to the touch, his... the door opened with an abrupt push, taking her back to her current surroundings. She took a deep calming breath before entering McGonagall's office.

"Good morning, Hermione." Her Professor greeted her informally with a gentle smile.

"Good morning, Professor." She returned the smile as she neared the Floo connection.

"Before you go, Professor Snape asked me to tell you that he probably won't be back before lunch. He reassured me that you already know how to proceed with your concoction?" Her tone was calm as she kept revising some of the parchments that were splattered on the wooden desk but she could almost perceive a slight vein of preoccupation under that well-feigned indifference.

"Yes, we have gone through our notes a few days ago, now it is just a matter of balancing the different ingredients in a way that the final product will be a solid cream and not a simple potion" She explained with an optimism she didn't really feel as she recalled her failed attempts the night before.

"I see. I would like to ask you something, Hermione, if I may? Now that we are truly alone, that nor the Headmaster nor Professor Snape are present; I would like to know your sincere opinion about what is happening." McGonagall stood up and circled her desk, letting her previous faked indifference fall and concentrating her attentive gaze on her alone. Hermione could detect that her Professor's sudden interest in her opinion was not due to mere curiosity but by a maternal preoccupation for her welfare and that was the main reason why she answered truthfully to her polite request.

"I believe that what we are trying to do is worthy, Professor, I'm putting all my energy into this task and I know it is difficult. I know it looks impossible, but we can't give up now, now that we are almost there, now that we might have found a solution that could spare a lot of lives." She explained, inflamed by the need to succeed in her task.

"I have always considered you a wonderful witch, Hermione, you have been the most favorite pupil of the all teaching staff as you very well know. You are curious, eager to know more, patient, rational, hardworking, gentle, kind and even idealistic with the right amount of courage to fight for your ideas. You are indeed not only an amazing witch but a wonderful person. But, you see, I fear that the Headmaster's enthusiasm and your close connection to Professor Snape might have afflicted your judgment, or better, all of our judgments. If you believe that this deed may be over your capabilities, I would completely understand. I know sometimes we are afraid to let our dearests down and we may not speak our reticence-" Hermione shook her head as she interrupted her Professor's speech.

"I am completely aware of the difficulty of this particular task, Professor, and of the risks it may imply but I have no intention of giving up. I know it is something over my abilities, but I will keep on trying until I succeed or until I have the chance to. I devoted myself to this cause, Professor, as we all did, as the Order did but I'm not backing away when I may be of help just because it may not work." She felt her cheeks redden as she spoke so freely to the woman and Witch she had always so much admired.

"I know, Hermione, I just want to protect you not only from the war and Voldemort but also from the mechanism of power and prevarication that sometimes can be used even from the ones that fight our same cause." Her Professor warned with a frown of her eyebrows that resembled more an expression of maternal care than one of more usual severeness.

"I realized, Professor, that sometimes being forced to do something that we wouldn't do is not always negative, sometimes it is necessary for reaching something we would never have thought we would find in that particular situation." She straightened her shoulders in pride as she recalled all the events of the last two months. She couldn't deny that the Headmaster had often pushed her in a direction she would never have taken on her own, but could she consider the outcome as negative? No, she thought with a smile, she could not.

"And on this, I have to agree with you but remember that if you ever need anything, I'm just a Floo away. I will see you before lunch, then?" Her Professor replied with a resigned sigh.

She nodded with a smile before grabbing the jar on the desk that contained the Floo powder. Just as she took a handful of it and just as she was about to approach the silent fireplace, she heard her Professor speak one last time: "And Hermione? I'm proud of you... even just for the patience to put up with Severus." She added on a more amused tone.

She giggled softly, her cheeks flaming at the thought of her stern Potions Professor and how she had put up with him quite well the night before, for well three times. She quickly pronounced her destination, in the hope that her Head of House had not seen her embarrassed reaction.

* * *

Once in his personal quarters, even though her Professor had informed her of his absence, she couldn't help but look around in case McGonagall had been wrong, but she had not. She was all alone in his rooms until lunch.

As soon as that realization hit her mind, she felt her curiosity rouse at that unique opportunity. She could, without the fear of being caught, snoop around a bit before starting her new concoction.

Severus – and she couldn't help a flutter in her heart at the thought that she was allowed to call him by his given name – had always been so reticent about telling her of his past. More than once she had pried, wholly eaten by untamable curiosity, but he had always backed away from her questions. Just once – and she couldn't ever forget it – he had burst, admitting some of the things he had been forced to do as a Death-Eater. For a while, she had thought he had been trying to scare her away, but she knew it was just an illusion. He had told the truth.

She had known him for over six years now and what she could tell from her direct experience was that he was a stern, buttoned up, private person who had a strange and dark sense of humor. It was his severeness, his privacy that had enticed her more to provoke him, to let him come out in his true nature. She had wanted to know him, the real him, so badly and what had started as a mere desire to uncover what was hidden, had ended in love.

He was a hero who didn't want to be recognised as such and preferred to be treated as a monster. He was complex; she couldn't deny that she thought with a smile as she tentatively opened the door to his bedroom.

He was protective, caring, sweet in his own private way. He was a man, so human under all those layers of lies and facades. A beautiful and wonderful man.

And with that thought that seemed to justify her desire to snoop around, she took a curious look at his king-sized bed covered in Slytherin green duvets. She felt her cheeks burn as she tried to imagine his sleeping form in that same bed. She had never seen him sleep: she had seen him almost unconscious, and they had spent a night together – him on the couch and her on the carpet – but she had been too tired herself to get a proper look at his sleeping form. She wanted to see him sleep. Did he sleep on his side? Did he hug his pillow while sleeping? Did he snore? As if it could give her an answer, she touched his bed softly.

She was soon distracted, though, by the wonderful view through the windows. She could see all the Forbidden Forest from there and she briefly thought that it wouldn't be so bad to live there. She shook her head, reprimanding herself: they had merely shared a few kisses, there was no need to go so much ahead, even if only with her imagination.

What attracted her soon after was his wardrobe. She had combed through it already once, but she had been so embarrassed that she had not had her eyes open when she had snatched his shirt out of it. But now, she thought with a secret smile, she could.

All he had was white or black shirts, a few identical robes, three billowing cloaks, black trousers and well – she thought with a severe blush on her cheeks – black boxers. Grabbing a shirt of his, after giving a quick glance around her to make sure nobody was there, she smelled it. It smelled of him: a mixed scent of herbs and Snape. It smelled so good, she thought, closing her eyes in pure bliss. Pondering the idea of snitching one of the shirts briefly, she quickly closed the wardrobe as if to shut herself away from the temptation.

She reached his office, trying to ignore the desire to also look around his living room. Taking off her robes, she gave an appreciative look at her clothes. That morning she had decided to wear something less formless and anonymous, opting for something more... feminine, more adapt to a woman in love: a flared, black and knee-longed skirt with a tucked soft blush pink shirt that suited her skin tone even when she blushed furiously, which she knew would happen quite often in the presence of Snape... Severus, she corrected herself with an enamored smile.

For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like a woman, a genuine woman with not only an incredible mind but also a desirable body. When Severus had looked at her the previous night, with her coiffed hair and pretty dress, she had felt empowered, strong, self-confident. He wanted her, he desired her, and she had enjoyed every minute of that new sensation. She had felt real.

And now again, even in his absence but in his office, with her new feminine clothes, coiffed hair, and light make-up, she felt right, at peace, ready to face Voldemort himself.

Smiling amused, she sprawled her parchments in front of her on the desk and started working with a renewed optimism.

* * *

At the third attempt, finally, she obtained something that resembled cream: a filthy, liquid-ish, brown cream but still a cream, which turned into a complete fluid concoction within two minutes. Her positive mind, though, couldn't deny that it was still an enormous achievement.

Just as she was correcting some of the ingredients' quantities on her notes, the door slammed open showing a stern Professor Snape accompanied by his eternal black robes, billowing cloak, severe frown and... a cage full of mouses?

"Good morning." He started neutrally as he closed the door behind him.

"Morning." She replied lamely as she kept looking at the cage by his side with a silent interrogative question.

He moved around, placing the cage in the corner of the room - completely ignoring the annoying squeaking noises that came from it, and took off his cloak. Then, finally, he turned to her.

"How is the potion going?" He asked as he looked at her new outfit with silent curiosity.

"Making progress, slowly but making progress. I didn't know you had pets." She said throwing a look at the noisy cage behind his back.

"Indeed I don't." He drawled, half-amused. "I bought them for practicing the variation of the Unforgivable spell." He added on a more serious note.

"I see." She said concisely as the atmosphere seemed to become gloomier at the mere mention of the dark spell.

"Shouldn't you be at lunch?" He asked curiously as he observed the messy desk in front of him.

"I am afraid I lost track of time." She replied giving a quick glance at the clock. Damn, Professor McGonagall would be waiting for her. She fast cleaned the cauldron with a flick of her wand, secured her precious notes in her bag and put her robes back on. She risked a glance in his direction and she was surprised to see an amused, almost distracted, half-smile on his lips.

"Does my carelessness amuse you, Professor?" She asked with a smile in her tone as his gaze finally met her eyes.

"Not at all, Miss Granger." He replied in the same playful tone with a humorous raised eyebrow.

"Will I see you at lunch?" She hated that her voice betrayed her eagerness so clearly.

He nodded, almost surprised by that sweet supplication in her voice, "Yes." He muttered almost overwhelmed.

Giving him one last smile, she opened the door to his quarters and used the Floo to get back to McGonagall's office, hoping she wouldn't mind her little tardiness.

* * *

"So, Hermione, how did your day go? Did you enjoy working with McGonagall? Our Potions lesson was simply boring: Slughorn was not in his best shape," Harry commented, fishing some potatoes from his plate.

"I have always gone along with Professor McGonagall and today's work just confirmed it." She replied lamely, taking the offered opportunity to give a glance at the staff table. He was there, looking at her. She couldn't help a joyous smile blossoming on her lips, returned by his tentative but still appreciated one.

"So what did you do? You should already be vomiting all the praises you have for McGonagall, her professionalism, her graciousness, her amazing abilities, and how it is amazing to help a teacher like her in such a difficult but interesting project..." Harry batted his eyes with fake adoration as he tried to imitate her.

She slapped his shoulder lightly, an amused smile on her lips. "I didn't want to bother you with all the details obviously."

"Indeed but this new event has been on the mouth of everyone today so we were all wondering if we could have some inside-scoop?" Just then she noticed that all her close friends – Harry, Ron, and Ginny – were looking at her with curiosity.

"Really? I didn't think it would make such a fuss." She replied as she tried to buy some time to think carefully about what she could say or whether she could avoid saying anything at all.

"Are you kidding? I think it is the first time that something like this happens: a professor who asks the assistance of a student during the school year for a secretive project. It is so exciting!" Ginny added with shining eyes.

She let out an embarrassed laugh. "It is not a secretive project, it is a banal-" But her words were cut by Harry's.

"Snape is leaving the Great Hall soon today," Harry noted with a suspicious gaze as they all turned to look at the billowing cloak that disappeared behind the giant doors of the Great Hall.

"I don't think I saw him this morning." He added after a while.

"I believe it is his free day." Hermione proposed as an excuse, hoping that her voice didn't sound too much defensive as it did on her own ears but Harry didn't seem even to listen to her.

"At what time will you be free?" He asked with determination as his eyes concentrated on her once again.

"I don't know, perhaps around seven?" She had to warn the Headmaster.

"That late? It is alright; we will wait for you. So, at seven in front of the gargoyles?" They all nodded before parting away in different directions.

She hoped the Headmaster would pass by sooner than that.

* * *

It was five, and Severus had still not been back to his quarters since lunch. In that time, she had been able to try other three attempts at the potion, and she was amazed by her progress: finally, she had obtained a solid cream. Not yet the color and smell she expected but still it was more than she had hoped.

Taking a little break, she paced back and forth in Severus' office to stretch her legs a bit before trying again.

Soon her mind went back to her lately obsessive thought: Severus Snape. Why was he not back yet? Had he gone back to Voldemort? Was he helping Malfoy? He had left the noisy cage there and had disappeared again out of the blue.

Was he killing someone? Or maybe torturing someone? Or – what she feared most – forcing someone sexually? She knew that it was wrong, that she should dread a homicide more but she preferred it to Severus' body pressed against another woman. Her hope was utterly disgusting, and she knew there was no justification for it.

Would he tell her? And would she want to know? Damn, yes, she wanted to know it! She had to know it! She could feel her anger boil at the mere thought of that probable confession. She deserved to know! For Merlin's sake, they had kissed, thrice! It was her right to know!

And while her head was exploding with all those possible scenarios she just couldn't stop conjuring in her mind, he entered from his quarters with no trace of restlessness that instead was so clear on her face.

"Good afternoon." He started as he took off his outer robes, utterly unaware of her anger.

"Good afternoon." She replied herself trying to feign some plausible indifference.

"Any progress since this morning?" He asked as he neared his desk to check the boiling cauldron.

"I obtained a cream, finally. It is not the color I want yet, but it is getting better." She still didn't make a move, checking every inch of his clothes in an attempt to guess his previous whereabouts.

"We could go through it again if you would like?" He asked, really looking at her in the eyes for the first time since he had entered.

"Yes." She replied concisely, her awareness evident in her stiff posture.

"Is there something you would like to ask?" He slightly narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Had he reread her mind? "Have you read my mind?" She couldn't refrain herself from asking.

"No, you have written it all over your face." He drawled sardonically with a stern and suspicious raised eyebrow.

She nodded with resolution, resuming her pacing in the constricted space of the room as if she had not heard his reply.

"Do I have to guess it?" He sneered in his most usual expression of superiority.

"May I know where you have been?" She asked politely, recalling her decision to be a mature woman and breaking his stance on defense.

"I am creating a portkey for the Headmaster's hiding place for after Tuesday" He replied with a severeness that contrasted with the gentleness of his reply.

Alright, it was not the answer she had been expecting. "Where did you think I was?" And she thought she heard a trace of slight amusement in his drawled voice.

She took her time before answering, her gaze fixed on the floor as she could feel his eyes concentrated on her figure. "You told me you are forced to do things..." And she left the phrase suspended while the meaning of it was crystal clear.

"I didn't kill anyone... yet." He added with dark humor, and she couldn't refrain a tiny amused smile to move her lips.

"Strangely enough, it was not what I feared most." She said mortified with a bitter-sweet smile as she heard him take a long breath as the meaning of her words sank in his mind.

Some minutes passed as none of them spoke and finally, her eyes moved back to his to investigate the reason for that prolonged silence, and she was surprised by the surprised curiosity she saw on his face.

"I am not... I... have not touched a woman against her will in a long time." He finally answered, and she thought it was the first time she had heard Severus stumble over an answer.

"But I thought..." She looked at him suspiciously.

"At the beginning, the Dark Lord's politics also had a strong sexual component: the Death-Eaters were what you might call a darker and much more powerful category of libertines. There were no morals, no ethics, no justice. It was based on the principle that he who has no ethical or whatever fear to take what he wants is stronger than the others. We wanted power and freedom, and as it is obvious, it ends with making the beast come out of the man. Some of them were happy with that turn of events, others were not. But anyway, it was before, when the Dark Lord still resembled a human being, now everything is different." He let his hair form a protective curtain on his face as he pretended to clean some of the stuff from his desk.

"So you have not been seeing anyone?" She asked trying to make her question sound a mere polite curiosity.

"Are you asking me if I am involved with someone?" His previous reticence was swapped with a new self-confident amusement accompanied by a gently raised eyebrow.

"I may, yes." She replied, her eyes pretending to be concentrated on her wrinkled parchments as she tried to feign a semblance of indifference miserably.

"I don't know. Am I?" He asked with a frown of confusion as they suddenly were both out of place in that semi-romantic conversation.

She raised her eyes surprised. "If I said yes?" She asked in the end, almost hopefully.

"Then I would be, as you would be." His answer was definite, almost a warning.

"Then it is a yes." She replied almost sternly to feign her interior jubilation.

"Are you sure?" He whispered in the end as if he had to fight with himself to express that doubt.

"Never been surer." She whispered back, solemnly.

He sighed, almost displeased with her affirmative answer. "Are you quite aware that you might be making a big mistake?"

"I think I am making the best choice of my life." She replied self-confidently as if Merlin himself had appeared in front of her to suggest her that precise fate.

"The best choice of your life would be to be involved with the future murderer of one of the most loved wizards of the world?" He sneered, enraged as he ruffled his hair in frustration.

"You won't kill him, Severus, I won't let you down." She swore solemnly as she barely recognized her sudden deep and so adult voice.

"And who said you would be the one to let me down? What if it were me to let you down?" He inquired painfully, his face crooked in an expression of almost physical pain at that scared admission.

But before she could answer, the door to his quarters burst open, showing a tall white-bearded Headmaster soon followed by a perfectly-coiffed McGonagall.

Damn the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall and their impeccable timing!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I know, I know, I am really really late but it has been a really busy period. I can promise you, though, that from now on the updates should be more regular... hopefully!**

 **A huge and infinite thank you to my Beta-Reader, MWolfe13, for her support and her wonderful work!**

"Is it a bad time?" The Headmaster asked with an unnerving twinkle in his eyes as something must have given their discussion away.

"No!" They shouted in unison, glaring at each other.

Both ashamed of the obviousness of their lies coming out so clearly from their angered voices, Severus was faster than her in turning around with a melodramatic outburst, offering his attention to the new visitor altogether, though not without a severe frown of annoyance.

"I see. So, shall I call an elf to bring some tea? I'm afraid it is going to be a long chat, wouldn't it be better if we were all more comfortable?" Dumbledore didn't wait for them to answer before retiring back to Severus' quarters.

Before any of them could blink, a house-elf arrived and left a tray with tea and some biscuits while they all found themselves seated on the opposite couches in the living room.

Hermione refused to give even one single glance at the other occupant of the couch as he made sure to be as far away from her as possible. She wondered if her face had gone red from the anger she could feel boiling in her chest.

"Who wants to start first?" The Headmaster asked cheerfully as he served the tea to each of them with surprising tranquility.

"I have made some important progress in the concoction since yesterday, Sir, and I may even risk saying that in a day or two we will have the first sample: I finally obtained a solid cream, of the right consistency but I am not yet convinced of its color. There might be some other ingredient I may be missing, but I am working on it." She exclaimed proudly, letting herself enjoy that little break, so well-deserved.

"I can't help myself in expressing my sincere and proud amazement, Hermione. I'm looking forward to testing your sample as soon as it is ready." The Headmaster nodded with his legs crossed and a posture entirely at ease as if he had predicted all those events for a long time and he had no fear that they may derail from his prevision.

"Minerva reminded me yesterday that we have thought about everything but one fundamental thing: a safe-house for the Headmaster as soon as the deed is done, if-" Severus stressed. "-our plan succeeds. I'm creating a portkey that should be ready before Monday. Should we succeed, I will try to move the Death-Eaters from the scene as soon as possible. In a day or two, I will discuss with Draco where he may find you, Albus. We have to decide on a place that is private, not exposed to the public eye, and spacious enough. Though, I don't want to cast the spell from too close proximity: it may be dangerous for you as well as for the success of the whole charade. There must also be a place where Minerva or Hermione can hide. As soon as I take the Death-Eaters out of the room, one of them must come out and use the portkey to bring you to the safe-house. For now, I will be the only one to know the right location of it – it is safer this way. Whoever of the two stays behind, I will take her with me through Apparition as soon as we have the chance to meet." He explained with his teaching voice.

"We don't know yet if it will happen on Monday or Tuesday?" asked the Headmaster.

"I have been working with Draco this early morning, it shall be on Tuesday, but I can be completely sure only on Sunday."

"How is Draco faring?" She was sincerely surprised by the Headmaster's compassionate question.

"Not so well, I am afraid: he doesn't want to do it, but he has no choice," Severus replied succinctly, his eyebrows drawing down in displeasure.

"I hope he can be saved, Severus," Dumbledore said enigmatically as if some secret meaning had passed between the two. She risked a glance at McGonagall, but she didn't look confused like Hermione was.

"I shall try my best to see that it happens," Severus added with a light reticence as he might have felt her curious gaze on him.

"Is this all? Is there something else we should be discussing?" The Headmaster asked in the end, clapping his hand noisily, closing the previous argument for good.

"There is, Sir. The other day when we were at Slughorn's party, Harry and I witnessed a scene that has perturbed Harry a bit too much, I am afraid. Draco had tried to burst into Professor Slughorn's office uninvited, and Professor Snape-" Hermione said looking at Severus apologetically for having omitted that detail. "-dragged Draco out. Harry got curious, and I was obliged to follow him as he tried to find out what was going on. We could overhear the conversation, and Professor Snape was right then offering his help to Draco for the deed he had to do. So now Harry is convinced that Professor Snape is still a loyal Death-Eater and his preoccupation was that you might not know it, Sir. I tried to talk him out of it, but I was unsuccessful. This late afternoon, around seven, we will come to talk to you about it. What scares me most is that he may make a big fuss about it and I guess we all want to avoid that, especially now with his link to You-Know-Who. His reactions are often... exaggerated." She tried to ignore the intent and burning gaze of Severus on her figure; she was only returning the favor after all.

"Of course, it is a preoccupation that is shared by us all. I will find something to... tame his excitement or at least, to distract him until Tuesday. In no way, Hermione, is he to know about what will happen, what the true role of Severus is in all this, and nor yours. We can't risk that Tom can, in some way, gain this information from him." The Headmaster reminded her sternly as his big blue eyes popped up from his glasses.

"Of course, Sir, I will not say anything. After all, I swore an Unbreakable Vow." She reminded him sternly with a self-confidence she had gained from Severus.

Severus didn't let his approval escape as he sneered, amused at her polite but pointy answer.

"Of course." Was all the Headmaster said before getting up with his usual agility. "We will adjourn until tomorrow afternoon at the same time?" They all nodded in agreement.

"Perfect. Minerva, Severus, I will see you at dinner. Hermione, I will see you at seven." And with that, he disappeared in the greenish halo of the Floo.

"Severus, Hermione, I'm proud of you both." And with what looked like a maternal, almost touched smile, McGonagall too disappeared in the magical fireplace.

* * *

"You were able to move our dear Minerva. I am almost touched myself." He commented sarcastically, making the tray with the empty cups disappear with a flick of his wand.

"I was also able to kiss our stern Potions Professor." She added maliciously with an unusual but welcome openness.

She was answered with a sultry raised eyebrow. "Were you, now?" He drawled with his deepest voice, playing along.

"Three times." She couldn't help to add, standing up herself but not nearing him yet.

"You aim to conquer your teachers... completely." She felt an amused smile blossom on her lips against her will.

"I was always told to be very ambitious." She couldn't help but near him, attracted by the darkening of his eyes but he pulled away.

"Indeed you are, and I may add, reckless too." And with that dry answer, he went back to his sterner mood.

"Why?" She pushed, her eyes narrowing in frustration.

"Because you chose the wrong professor to have a crush on." He sustained her enraged gaze with one as dangerous.

"It is not the wrong professor and it... is not a crush." Even though she felt her cheeks fire at that intimate admission, she didn't lower her eyes in shame.

"You believe it is love, Granger?" He sneered in his most detached voice, making her feel inadequate, stupid, as he had made her feel for six years in his classroom and even as she felt her throat close for the big offense she had just received, she didn't back away from his cold gaze.

"I didn't know you kissed your students just for fun, Professor." She replied harshly, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He flinched, hurt and she was ashamed that she felt a thrill of satisfaction go through her limbs.

Surprisingly, he was the one to back away from that duel. "It is wrong." He whispered gently as if speaking more to himself than to her.

"How can you say that? How can you say that when it is our collaboration that it is making a crucial change in this war?" She asked in hurt disbelief.

"You reason like the Headmaster." He shook his head, starting to pace back and forth, keeping himself as far away from her as possible.

"Maybe because we are right." She affirmed as if only her Professor was thick enough not to get it.

"You are a good girl, Hermione, why would you ever want to be involved with a monster like me?" He pleaded, stopping his movements as he looked at her desperately.

"You are not a monster, Severus." She replied, compassionate, trying to take a few steps towards him but he broke their eye-contact and backed away, resuming his agitated pacing.

"I am a Death-Eater, in case you haven't noticed." He sneered, haunted by all those past ghosts that she so wanted to set him free from.

"Just in name, you are not a true one anymore." She reminded him.

"I still torture, I still kill when I am asked to. I act as one; as the most loyal and faithful one, this makes me just like one them: a true Death-Eater. And that is who I will be once this deed is completed. I will take over Hogwarts, and I will rule with other Death-Eaters just like me. You should be with someone your age, someone good, someone who never had the past and the present of a killer." With that final and absurd resolution, he finally seemed to be back to his usual and calm self, detached and unapproachable.

"For the greater good! You do all that for the greater good, and this enormous sacrifice just dignifies you more than all the others, than me, than the Headmaster, than Harry, McGonagall or whoever is fighting for this war!" She shouted, enraged by his irremovability.

"There is nothing I have come to hate more in these past two decades than the fucking greater good! Do you think that those poor people I point my wand at care a shit about the greater good, knowing they are about to die at my hand? Do their lives weigh less than the others' who are meant to survive? Believe me, Granger, I have killed hundreds of people for the greater good, and it doesn't feel less real, less painful, less wrong every time I do it!" He snarled at her, nearing her petrified form in rage.

"We can't understand why, Severus, why they die and why we live, who decides who has to survive and who not. We can never grasp something that is so much beyond us. It may seem a banal, senseless answer but all we can do is come to terms with this reality we can't rule. We can only hope that there is a good reason behind all these events, that we can never know but that there is. We can't punish ourselves because we survive, because we are the lucky ones." She said as she raised her hand to touch his contracted jaw in solace.

"I don't want to do this anymore." He pleaded her, letting himself go to her touch.

"I love you." She admitted with wide eyes, surprised as much as him by that sudden admission.

He startled away from her. "You should not." He took his cloak and disappeared in a flash behind the wooden door of his office.

She sighed, resigned. It was seven, and she had no time to chase after him, but it didn't mean she would not be back later. She would not give up on him even if he had given up on himself. Their relationship might not last. Actually, it might never really begin, but he deserved to at least be saved from himself.

* * *

"Where were you? It is ten past seven!" Harry reprimanded her as soon as she reached the office's door in a rush.

"Sorry, it took me longer than I expected." He nodded; still a bit unnerved and knocked on the door.

The Headmaster appeared in front of them with his usual twinkling eyes and welcome smile.

"My favorite Gryffindors, do please come in!" He greeted them a bit too eagerly.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Started the Headmaster as they all took their seats across from his desk.

"Sir, I am afraid I believe I may be breaking the news to you about Professor Snape," Harry said a little reticently, going straight to the point and she was almost surprised by the disappointment she could hear in his voice. She had always suspected that Harry might hate Snape for the past that all three of them had shared with the Professor in the last six years, but he sounded genuinely crushed as he broke the news.

"Pray, do tell." The Headmaster replied untouched, offering all of them some of his impossibly sweet candies.

"The other day, Hermione and I were at Professor Slughorn's party when all of a sudden Draco Malfoy tried to crash the party. Professor Slughorn had been kind enough to invite him to enjoy the party when Professor Snape asked Mr. Malfoy for a word in private. Something seemed off so we – Hermione and I – decided to follow them. We couldn't help but hear the conversation between them and Sir; I believe Professor Snape and Draco agreed to do something to help You-Know-Who. I believe, Sir, that Professor Snape is betraying us." He said ultimately.

They all stood in silence for some minutes as the Headmaster kept tasting some of his candies as if he had utterly forgotten their presence there.

"I'm quite aware of the true loyalties of every member of the Order, Harry; you don't have to worry about it," Dumbledore answered after a while. She couldn't help but admire the delicate diplomacy of the Headmaster in that evasive answer.

"So, Sir, you-?"

But Harry's surprised question was soon interrupted by the Headmaster's relaxed statement. "I know everything that happens in this castle, Harry; nothing can escape my notice," Dumbledore replied cheerfully, mitigating the light threat that those words could hint at.

Another moment of brief silence was soon interrupted by the exploding of Fawkes. They all turned their gaze on her as she turned into dust and soon after she was once again a beautiful bird.

"I'm always amazed by Fawkes's natural re-birth." How could she have ever forgotten it? She barely was able to resist the impulse to slap her forehead. It had been so right before her eyes!

"Is there something else you would like to tell me, my dears?" Continued the Headmaster, ignoring the gravity of the matters that had just been discussed.

"No, Sir, only this," Harry replied dumbfounded, getting up from his chair quickly, soon followed by her and Ron.

"Ah, Harry? I would like if you didn't mention this conversation or what you had seen to anyone, it would be... most inconvenient." The Headmaster added with a smile before they left his office, more confused than before, except – of course – Hermione herself.

"Well, that was... unexpected." Ron talked for the first time.

"Indeed, indeed it was," Harry replied, a little distracted.

* * *

"I don't want to do this anymore," Severus exclaimed as soon as he walked into the Headmaster's office, his billowing cloak rushing behind him in a fury, reflecting his mood.

"What are you babbling about, Severus?" The Headmaster asked from his desk, not at all perturbed.

"I don't want to carry out with this madness anymore, is that clear enough, Albus?" Severus drawled with a glare that could kill.

"I thought you agreed to this plan; we had talked about it merely two hours ago. What had you change your mind all of a sudden?" The Headmaster inquired, reaching for his bottle of excellent Firewhisky behind his back.

"It is too dangerous." He said, refusing to take the glass full of Firewhisky that the Headmaster had offered him. He would not back away from that resolution, and the Fireswhiky could have easily clouded his mind. The Headmaster knew it and his hundredth attempt to manipulate him just reinforced his choice.

"Dangerous for whom? Instead of dying, I will be alive and cured, so it surely is not dangerous for me; you will have to kill me for pretense instead than for real, so it is not more dangerous for you either. So, I wonder, Severus, who is it dangerous for?" The Headmaster raised his eyebrows, challenging Severus to give him a truthful reply.

"That's not the point," Severus said punctuating each word.

"Is it not? The reason for this conversation is not the welfare of Miss Granger? You can fool Tom, Severus, but not an old man like me who has savored the sweet pains of love a handful of times." The old man chuckled, lost in old memories, ignoring the grimace of disapproval on Severus' face.

"You love her, don't you?" The Headmaster added after a while, his compassionate gaze landing on the pacing figure of Severus.

Severus stopped his agitated movements at the question, his gesture a crystal clear answer to that burning question. "It is too risky for her. Once the open war starts, she will often be back to the castle for... me-" He added reticently, "-and there are too many chances that she may be abducted by the Death-Eaters."

"Severus, there is no one I know that would be able to follow Harry to look for Horcruxes and come back here to Hogwarts whenever she wants unharmed but Hermione. She was able to create a new kind of concoction that can defeat or at least contain a dark curse indeterminately in a month, Severus. Moving from wherever she will stay back here to Hogwarts must be a piece of cake for her." The Headmaster chuckled amusedly.

"You must have faith in her." The Headmaster continued tenderly.

"I do believe in her, I do believe in her more than I believe in myself, Albus, but it doesn't make me less worried for her life. I believe she can defeat the Dark Lord herself if she so wanted, but still, I would never want her to face him." Severus replied, unnerved at himself for having let Hermione get so much under his skin. He had tried so hard to resist her, to keep her at a safe distance because he knew that it would end up a mess where it would be difficult to come out unhurt. But no, she had to persist, to fight him at every corner, to insist on helping him, to care for him. She was the first woman who had taken care of him. How could he not give in to the illusion that he too could be loved?

And then she had come in his quarters the other night, appearing out of the blue, not giving him the chance to prepare himself for that view. He had seen her at the party, beautiful, young, but shaped as a grown-up and so desirable a woman in her pretty dress, all that skin uncovered that just asked him to touch her. Still, he had tried to push her away, but she wouldn't let him. She had to press herself into him, so sweetly, so readily, as if there was nothing else she wanted in her life than to be held in his arms and once again he had found himself give in under the pressure of her persistent and searching lips.

And when she had let him touch her so thoroughly... Merlin that had been the moment in which he had realized he would never be able to back away again. She was so beautiful and his, his as she let him touch her, caress her, kiss her. Merlin, he wanted her, he wanted her so badly.

She loved him. It didn't matter how much he tried to belittle her feelings, in front of her and in his mind, he knew it was true. If there was someone who didn't have mere ephemeral feelings, it was Hermione Granger. He had known long before she had told him so clearly, trying to persuade him of the rightness of their affections. He had known for the way she cared for him, for the way she fought for him, for the way she was ready to put her life in jeopardy to save him.

And he loved her, too. That's why he didn't want her to be involved with him: a Death-Eater, a killer, a double-agent that sure as hell was not going to survive that war. He was not so stupid not to know that that war would kill him. Could he let her have him, love him, care for him knowing what would happen?

"Let her save you, Severus." The Headmaster exclaimed with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, replying to that same question that had been mulling in his head for hours.

He was about to say something when a knock on the door startled him, making him turn his head with a start.

"Come on in, Hermione." The Headmaster called out with a soft gleam in his eyes.

"Good evening, Sir, I am sorry to disturb you this late, but I believe... oh, good evening, Professor," Hermione added, surprised as soon as she saw him standing by the windows.

He couldn't help but notice how she had taken off her robes, showing the same new look of the morning. She looked so taken by her enthusiasm not to see how her dressing up was a blatant violation of the rules. Not that he minded nor had any intention of making her notice it: she had dressed up for him, and the least he could do was to enjoy that new view. He realized – not without some amusement – that Hermione had turned out to be a woman who wanted to seduce her man and – in all sincerity – he couldn't deny that she was succeeding in her goal.

"Good evening, Miss Granger." He drawled sternly, making an effort to look back at the landscape over the window instead of staring at her as if he had never seen a woman before in his entire life.

He closed his eyes, trying to banish the vivid memory of her body pressed into his that had haunted him all day.

A part of him, though, couldn't help but think about the Headmaster's suggestion. He wanted to believe that, after all, Albus was right, that all Severus had to do was give in to her desire to take care of him, to love him and just love her back. Merlin, if he didn't want to believe those words as if a divine edict had declared it!

She cleared her voice, distracting him from his thoughts, and started talking to the Headmaster once again.

"I was saying; I believe I may have found a cure, a real cure, a definitive cure for the curse, Sir!" She exclaimed enthusiastically.

He turned around with a start, bewildered by those words.

"I've never heard sweeter words, Hermione, please sit down." The Headmaster said as he gestured for the girl to sit across from him.

"I don't know how it could have escaped my mind; it was so obvious! Phoenix tears, Sir! That's the secret ingredient. I am more than sure. If we add these to the compound, it shall create a definitive cure for the curse!" Her eyes turned to look for him, gleaming with pure joy and satisfaction, trying to involve him in her enthusiasm.

"Severus?" The Headmaster called him with a knowing smile.

"Yes, I believe it can work." And just as the Headmaster's question had implied two different meanings, so did his reply.

"Perfect! I shall send you Fawkes tomorrow morning after breakfast. Hermione, you did a great job. I believe that in a year we will have a new brilliant Potions apprentice, don't you think, Severus?" Severus merely grunted his assent at the twinkling and malicious eyes of the Headmaster.

"Thank you, Sir." Hermione beamed, sitting up from the chair and heading to the door.

"I bid you both a good night, Sir, Professor." Her gaze rested on him longer than could be called appropriate, uncaring of the Headmaster's curious gaze.

He had wanted to stop her, to call her back but he stayed there, unmovable by the window, his posture stern and rigid, his hair covering part of his face.

"Go to her, Severus. There is no need to keep the company of a boring old man for the rest of the night." Severus didn't so much as let out a sigh of relief at those words. Nevertheless, he didn't need to be told twice before reaching the door in long, fast strides.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Alright, I think I should warn you that there is some mild M content at the beginning of the chapter so many of you will be happy of it, others less so you can skip it if you don't like it; or, if you are under 18... well, I have been reading M stories since I was 14, so really, who am I to judge?**

 **A huge thank you to my great Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

How she had ended up straddling Severus on his couch in his personal quarters, Hermione couldn't tell. All she knew was that soon after exiting the Headmaster's office, she had come back to Severus' quarters in the hope they would be able to finish their previous heated discussion.

She hadn't even waited five minutes before Severus slammed into the room through the little wooden door situated in a hidden alcove on the ground-floor.

She had turned around to see him immobile on the threshold, looking infuriated, his breath flaring through his enlarged nostrils. She had stood her ground, not caring what other silly reason he had found for interrupting their relationship. Then one of them – she couldn't tell whether it had been her or him – had made that final step that had brought them on the couch in a tangle of bonded limps.

In the end – Hermione realized as she linked her arms around his neck more firmly, before attacking his lips again – she didn't really care who had started it as long as it had begun.

She couldn't help a light moan from escaping her lips as his hands started roaming her hips, going up to her shoulder blades, going down again, caressing her, tormenting her slowly.

Losing all her composure, she moved her hands to his face, pushing back those night-black strands of hair that impeded her sight of his face in the dim light of the room.

He let her as he stopped the movements of his hands, slightly tilting his head back to facilitate her goal.

If possible, Hermione felt even more in love with that firm profile: his hooked nose, his now red and swollen lips, his penetrating black eyes that were fixed on her lovingly, the slight and perpetual scowl between his eyebrows. She wanted him.

Out of their volition, her fingers lightly brazed those contours she was tired of merely admiring. His eyes closed in pleasure at the first contact of the warm flesh of her hands with his cheekbones. Her fingers traveled down the same path that her hungry eyes had followed mere seconds before, feeling and touching his lips, his nose, his closed eyes, his eyebrows, that adorable line between them, his forehead.

Not satisfied enough though, her lips decided to join in, kissing him, caressing him, soothing him until, both missing a deeper touch, his hands grabbed her face roughly and pushed her lips against his.

She moaned again, not caring that her loss of control was so noisy. Instead, pushing her hips a little to get closer, for she was never close enough, she felt his erection brush against her center, barely covered by her tights and knickers.

Slowing her starved hands, she pushed back a little to observe his reaction. At the view of his slightly parted lips, of his fully dilated pupils, of his nostrils flaring as if he was undergoing some immense effort, she couldn't refrain her impulse to grind her heated core against his rigid crotch. Nor she could help a louder moan from escaping her lips as she felt his hands grab her hips tightly to push her against him again. His eyes closed at that sudden new pleasure and she heard his deep groan matching her moan.

More, more, more – was all she could think of as she tightly grabbed his shoulders for another, firmer thrust. Her interior request was satisfied as, losing all his composure, he moved his hands to grab the round cheeks of her skirt-covered bottom forcefully. Incapable of thinking of what they were both actually doing, Hermione kept rocking her hips against his, rubbing her now flooded core against his hard crotch, capable only of damning all those layers of clothes that separated her from feeling his warm flesh.

The more Hermione moved, the more she was sure she was about to reach her first climax with a man and considering Severus' grunts, she would not achieve it alone.

Her skin was flushed from the sudden heat she could feel all over her body, her gasps of pleasure loud, her maneuvers hard and fast, when they heard a voice calling from the door linked to Snape's office. She could feel his hands losing their firm grip on her now almost aching bottom cheeks, but she sure as hell could not stop at that moment even if it were the Dark Lord that was calling from Severus' office.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop!" She half-moaned, half-gasped, as she pressed her core more firmly into his, trying to heighten the friction.

His unfocused eyes turned back to her and, as if incapable of resisting and stopping that spectacle, his hip bone rose to meet each and one of her now sloppy thrusts. With that new angle, she could perfectly feel the head of his manhood brush that right spot on her clitoris. Letting go, incapable of refraining a loud moan escaping her lips, she trembled over him as her walls contracted almost painfully inside of her. Soon after, triggered by that sublime view, his orgasm followed just as loudly.

She went limp on him, and for one second she almost feared she had lost consciousness when their idyll was once again interrupted by a tentative male voice from the other side of the door.

"Draco!" Was all Severus said before pushing her to her feet in one fast, swift motion. She was sure her legs would fail before she could make a single step and it looked like Severus seemed to follow her same line of thought as he gently grabbed her to move her mushy form to his chair behind the desk and quickly worked a Disillusionment Charm touching the tip of his wand on her head.

Still, partly in a trance, she saw him cast a cleansing spell on himself before rushing to open the door.

"I'm so sorry, Sir, I didn't want to come here so late, but I-" Draco started agitated as soon as the little wooden door swung open.

"Don't worry, Draco, come on in." Severus interrupted the younger man with a new gentle tone she thought she had never heard before. It was almost... fatherly.

Still trying to regain some of her breath, Hermione sat more straightly on the chair, careful as not to make a single sound escape her mouth. She could have hidden in his bedroom, but she reckoned that as soon as Draco had reached Severus' door, they had both been quite incapable of simple rational thought. Well, at least for her. Severus had looked much more in control than her as he had thought about Disillusioning her, putting her on the chair, cleaning himself and opening the door in his perpetual cool and controlled demeanor. All she had been able to do was faint for a couple of seconds on what felt like a harsh wooden chair after she had sat on Severus' firm but soft thighs.

She knew she should be ashamed of herself, of her complete loss of control, as she shamelessly begged Severus to keep going, to not stop that beautiful and relieving friction. Even though Disillusioned, Hermione felt her cheeks light on fire as soon as her blood resumed to circulate to the rest of her body and not only in her nether regions.

A loud sob called her back to the present, making her narrow her eyes as she tried to ascertain if what she had just heard was Draco Malfoy crying.

"I don't want to do it, Severus, I don't want to kill Dumbledore. I know I have to, I know-" Hermione had never thought in her six long years here at Hogwarts that she could ever feel pity for the Ferret, but she did, right at that moment, she did.

She almost expected to see an embarrassed and out of place Snape dealing with a crying Draco but she had never been more wrong. Severus was surprisingly calm, put, confident even in that bizarre situation. Summoning a glass of water, he readily offered it to Draco, taking him to sit on the couch where she could see them right in front of her.

"You don't have to worry about it, I will be there-" Severus replied, leaving the phrase suspended but the meaning clear.

"But the Dark Lord wants me to do it, I can't-" Draco tried to reply, but his head kept shaking as if the mere thought of that action was unbearable.

"I told you, I have already talked to the Dark Lord, there is nothing you have to worry about. Just repair the cabinet before Tuesday, warn your aunt and the others on the time and place and I will take care of the rest." Hermione knew that the strange and sudden pang of jealousy she could feel rising in her chest was entirely wrong. Reminding herself that she was an adult and that her involvement with Severus was of a completely different nature, though, was not enough to send away the sense of unease she felt as she saw the affectionate link the two wizards shared.

What hurt her the most was that she hadn't known. She knew Severus had been helping Draco of late, but she hadn't known how bonded they had become or, maybe, they had always been.

Even though her relationship – if she could really call it such – with Severus had made wonderful progress (and she couldn't help recalling the last hour at that thought), he still kept her at a certain distance. He talked so little about his past, his life, what he did and did not, of his interests.

"Do you promise it? I don't want to hurt anyone, but I don't want my family to be punished because of me." Draco's eyes were now red and puffy, but his tremors had finally subsided.

"I promise it, Draco," Severus replied as calm as always, taking Malfoy back to the exit door.

"I will see you tomorrow morning, for now, go back to your room, sleep, and don't think about it. Everything shall be fine as long as we all respect what we have decided." Draco was about to open the door when he turned back to look at Severus with curious eyes.

"Sir, do you hate Dumbledore?" Even Severus seemed taken aback by that unexpected soft question.

"No, Draco, I don't." He replied truthfully as a few seconds of silence had gone by. Draco seemed satisfied with that reply as he opened the door and exited the room more at peace.

Severus turned to her with a start as the absence of the billowing cloak didn't make his abrupt movement less intimidating. He seemed to spot her right away, looking correctly into her eyes even though her form was still Disillusioned.

In two quick, long strides he reached her and once again he tapped the tip of his wand to her forehead, making her reappear in body and flesh in front of him.

"I didn't know that Draco was so... human." She started after a couple minutes spent looking at each other in silence.

"This war has forbidden from really knowing people because of stupid, untrue and false ideals and prejudices. You are a Gryffindor, Granger, you would never have accosted Draco and really gotten to know him if not for this particular circumstance in which Dumbledore has obliged us into." Severus snapped almost accusingly as once again her impersonal surname fell from his lips.

"You know, just of lately I realized how the Headmaster's plan has been more fruitful and farsighted than I had thought at the beginning. He has brought us together, making us overcome our differences, obliging us to really know each other. I know what you mean, even Professor McGonagall has seemed quite skeptic about our collaboration, not really believing that we could work and succeed together, but the Headmaster had seen it right all along." Hermione replied with a knowing smile, completely ignoring Severus' dour answer.

"Are you satisfied with the outcome?" The wizard sneered sarcastically, taking a few steps away from her.

"Yes, I am, I am glad that I have had the chance to really know you, Severus." She admitted with a certain tenderness in her voice.

"You will change your mind, as soon as your juvenile affection for me stops clouding your mind, you will see how wrong you have been, you and the Headmaster." He spat more with pain than with real anger.

"Why is it always one step forward and two back with you?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

"How can you be so blind, Hermione? How can you be such a strong, capable and intelligent witch and not understand what it is right before your eyes? I am trying to protect you." Trying not to gloat at those rare compliments from Severus, she took two steps towards him, raising her hand to touch his clothed shoulder.

"Protect me from what, Severus? You didn't start this war, you are not responsible for my involvement into it, and you can't avoid it either, I am in the thick of it. I can't, and I won't walk away." She professed proudly.

"As if I didn't know that. What I am trying to say is that someone like you is not meant for someone like me. I am stained, Hermione, and I will always be even once this war is over. Psychologically, physically, socially, I am stained, I have been a Death-Eater, and nothing can erase this sin. I am a harsh, difficult person, I am a killer no matter for what reason I killed; I am so much older than you are. You are young, beautiful, capable, with a bright future in front of you: you will finish your studies, get a wonderful job, marry a wizard your age, have a family. This is the future that you deserve and since I... care about you, I don't want to be the one to take it away from you. How selfish would I be if I kept you in these dark, damp dungeons? This is the right place for me, for a surly, dark Potions Professor, but not for you, not if I can avoid it." Hermione realized that it was not only the longest speech she had ever heard from Severus but also the most personal and intimate one. In many words that tried to hide his deep feelings, he had just professed his deep affection for her, and it took all of her more profuse effort not to jump at him right then and there.

"You have just listed the reasons for which I love you." Ignoring the disapproving shaking of his head, she caught his head between her hands to still his movements.

"So you... love me because I am not done for you, because it is dangerous, wrong, unethical, transgressive, and should I go on?" But Hermione didn't as much hear the second part of that statement as she had finally obtained that Severus recognized the sincerity of her feelings.

"No, because you are a good person who had to face so many injustices because of which he has been persuaded that he doesn't deserve to be loved." He was about to open his mouth to surely retort something else, but she didn't give him the time nor the chance as she raised on her toes to push her lips against his, showing how much she meant to stay.

Once again, he seemed reluctant to reciprocate her kiss soon after that little not concluded discussion. Entwining her arms around his neck, she pressed on his shoulders to get enough leverage to press her lips more firmly against his. And as always, in the end, he gave in to her persistence.

His lips parted under hers, letting his tongue slightly brush against the soft flesh of her lips. His hands raised to circle around her back, pushing her body against his as well as helping her in the effort to reach his lips.

Just when she was about to climb his tall, imposing form as a tree out of frustration and desire, he parted his lips away from hers, eliciting her moan of disapproval.

"It is late, you should go back to your dorms." It took her a while to concentrate on the meaning of those words rather than the hoarse, low voice with which were spoken.

"Will I see you tomorrow morning?" She didn't care that she sounded desperate as she clutched his robes in her fists in a vain attempt to delay the moment of departure.

"I shall be here soon after breakfast to help you with the potion." He drawled with a tiny smile lifting his lips.

Just at the mention of that promise she finally decided to let him go and to rush back to her dorms.

* * *

Even though Hermione had slept less than the previous nights – which meant she didn't sleep at all – she felt strangely refreshed.

She blushed as she couldn't help wondering if it had been the intimate relief that they had shared the previous evening to make her feel more cheerful than usual.

Going through her new routine, which included to wear some makeup and nicer clothes, Hermione realized just at that moment how much her relationship with Severus had grown. His reluctance had made her boldness come out, but it didn't mean that she was not scared herself.

Every time she thought she had finally gotten Severus to accept their more intimate bond, he would always back away again which just spurred her more to persuade him of the rightness of their relationship, but she couldn't deny – in the solitude of her rooms – that it was a difficult situation.

A part of her knew he was right. There were so many obstacles, so many impediments that she could not just ignore. She couldn't help but feel sad as she recalled how Severus had described himself as stained. And he was right. Nobody appreciated him, no one believed him, and everyone doubted his true loyalties.

Hermione had never cared for those prejudices and, since she had known the truth about Snape, she had never given them a second thought.

The war would start in few days, and then Merlin only knew what would happen. He would be believed the worst Death-Eater in history while she was out somewhere looking for Horcruxes with her friends. Three days and Hermione knew that she might never see him again. She could die, or he could die, or years could go by before they met again.

The mere idea of never seeing him again had her lay her body against the wall, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm her trembling limbs.

"What will happen when the open war starts?" Hermione asked as she prepared the usual ingredients by the cauldron, her eyes concentrated on the actual task rather than on the figure of her Professor that stood tall by her side.

"That's an inane question, and you know it." He drawled dryly.

"I mean, I know what will happen but-" She tried to say as Severus resumed her work as she stopped to look at him.

"Then your question was even more stupid than I thought." Severus interrupted her, taking her place in front of the cauldron.

She snorted: only Snape could be more challenging to deal with in the morning than an impossible potion.

"Will we see each other?" She spat fast before he could stop her again and finally that question gained her all his attention as his hands stilled and his face rose to meet hers.

"Sometimes." Was all he said before resuming his work unruffled.

"What does that mean?" She asked bewildered.

"It means-" He started, slapping his hands loudly on the workbench to point out how bothered he was by her questions. "-that I will be busy with the Dark Lord and you will be busy helping those two dunderheads friends of yours." He drawled annoyed.

"So you simply don't care whether we will..." But she shook her head hurt and refused to finish her question.

"Believe me, the less we see each other, the safer it will be for you." He affirmed more gently.

"Tell me the truth, what will happen soon after our charade?" She turned towards him, her face rose to meet his eyes half adamantly, half pleadingly.

He paused for one second as if he was pondering whether to answer her question truthfully or not. "I will be on the run soon after the news of the Headmaster's death has spread. I will go with the other Death-Eaters back to Malfoys' Manor to meet the Dark Lord to... celebrate, I guess. The Ministry will silently support the Dark Lord without another strong figure standing against him, choosing the easiest way around. I will be promoted as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, I believe around ten-fifteen days after Dumbledore's death while the Dark Lord will try to take control over all the other institutions until he has no one left standing against him. You, Potter and Weasley, will be on the run as well, looking for Horcruxes. I don't know where. The Headmaster assured me that he is informing Potter about everything. I don't know how much time will pass before you and your friends destroy all the Horcruxes, nor do I know when I will be able to meet you or Dumbledore again since I will be under much scrutiny. I believe that McGonagall will be the one to keep in touch with you and the Headmaster and will make sure that everything will go smoothly." As soon as he finished speaking, leaving her with her mouth agape, he resumed his work.

"It is not going to end well for everyone, is it?" She had been just so absorbed about the potion, about her Gryffindor optimism, about her new self-confidence that she had never really thought about how things would progress soon after that first part was over. Her potion was not a solution, it was the beginning of a long and uncertain journey.

"Well spotted, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." He snarled sarcastically.

She wanted to snap at him, to make his harsh and useless remarks stop, to shout at him for having hidden that reality away from her. He had known from the beginning while she had been living in a bubble, believing that everyone would be saved, that they would win, clouded by her brief success.

"Hermione, I am sorry, I shouldn't have-" But she didn't care that it was one of the first time she heard her Professor apologize to anyone, she just wasn't able to stop thinking about the meaning of his words. She couldn't deny it, he had painted a very likely scenario of what would happen, and she didn't know how to cope with that reality, not after everything she had gone through in the last months to get that stupid potion that, in the end, decreed a little success.

"So all we have is three days and then who knows when..." Three days and then he could die, or she could die, or both of them could or maybe weeks, months, even years could pass before they saw each other again. She had fought for nothing.

But he seemed shocked just as much like her as he stood there without uttering a single word, incapable of admitting that hurting truth.

"I worked for nothing." She admitted painfully.

"No, that's not true, you have saved Dumbledore's life, you may have changed the outcome of this war. Hermione, don't think you have done nothing just because you are not able to finish this madness sooner. Nobody can, not you, not Potter, not me or the Headmaster, we have to come to terms with this reality and celebrate every little victory as a further step towards the end of this all." She would have laughed, had the situation not been so damn catastrophic: the world was surely going to end if Severus Snape had become more optimistic than her.

"Promise me you won't let anything happen to you," She asked adamantly, gripping his black rigid sleeve.

"I promise you that I will do my best not to let anything happen to me." He replied with some reticence, fixing his eyes on the little hand that had gripped him so fiercely.

Their discussion was soon interrupted by the entrance of Fawkes. Hermione couldn't have told where the bird had come from since Severus' quarters were more secured than Azkaban. Nevertheless, they found themselves looking at Fawkes' best shape as she batted her wings lightly before planing on the desk.

It seemed as if Fawkes knew right away what she had to do, as they pushed a little phial right under her eyes and the colored bird started crying silently into it.

They went back to work, none of them uttering a single word after that brief interruption. Severus looked concentrated and unattached, as always, while she couldn't say the same for herself. She couldn't help thinking about how her effort seemed to save Dumbledore's life but risk Severus' more.

If the Dark Lord ever came to know about Dumbledore still being alive, the one to pay the price would be Severus with his life.

If Severus had always known, why he had never expressed his doubts to her? Well, she knew that was a rhetorical question: when and if the day came in which Severus would tell her something, would be the day in which pigs started to fly.

She had realized in that uncomfortable conversation that Severus had known since the beginning that his chances of surviving the war were decreasing day by day and what had hurt her the most was that he had looked merely resigned to that fate.

"What else do you know that I don't?" She couldn't refrain herself from asking as all the questions crowded her mind, threatening to explode in a breakdown.

"Nothing." He replied as he kept going with his work.

"Now I know for sure that it is a lie: you always hide something." She snapped frustrated, once again stilling her hands and turning towards him.

"Then I correct my answer: nothing important." He drawled annoyed without giving her even a second glance.

"Let me correct it too: nothing that you deem important for me to know." He sighed loudly, finally stopping what he was doing and giving her all his attention as he turned around to look at her.

"What's the problem with you today?" He asked directly as she actually couldn't find a right answer to that question. The truth was that she didn't really know what the problem was, or better, she knew it, and she also knew that there was no solution to it. What had bothered her the most was the realization of the imminent departure and most of all, his total carelessness of it.

"I... I have done so many things in these last months, I took care of finding every possible solution to every single problem that my brain literally hurts, and you just stand there as if you don't care about the developments the events will take, you just... I don't know, you just seem so untouched, and I don't understand it." She blurted out, in the end, not caring that her speech had no sense at all.

"Did I not indulge you in your every wish? You wanted to collaborate, and I did, you wanted to save Dumbledore, and I went on with your crazy plan. I took care of finding a safe-house for when the war starts. I took care of changing an Unforgivable into a simple Stunning curse. I took care of talking to the Dark Lord and Draco, I am doing everything I can even when I don't want to do any of this. And I have been working on this for twenty years, Granger, not a couple of months. If I were to show how much this situation affects me, I wouldn't have survived a single day, but it doesn't mean that my mind is not active and is not thinking different solutions to get the best out of this situation." He brushed a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that gave away all the tiredness he felt.

"You want to know how I feel? I feel exhausted, I feel so damn exhausted." As Severus whispered those unmentionable words, for one moment Hermione could see all the repressed feelings reflected in his eyes, but it all lasted but a moment as he regained his cold detachment once again.

As she was standing there, still and incapable of uttering a word, he poured the contents of the cauldron in a little jar.

"I will take this to Dumbledore, you can come, or you can take a few hours to rest." Waking up from her momentary stillness, she reached a hand to grab his wrist, careful as not to touch the delicate glass jar in his hand.

"I am not saying that you are not doing everything in your power for this war. I know that my efforts can never equal yours, you have been dedicated to this cause before I was even born. In all this mess, I fell in love with you. I know, I know, there is no need for you to snort like that. I know that you don't want to hear it, but it is true. Among many things, your welfare has become one of my first priorities, but I have realized that I can't do anything about it and even though I try, you just block me at every corner and it is... so damn frustrating!" She had not meant to be so reproachful when she had started that speech that was meant to appease both of them, but it seemed like she had no control on her mind anymore.

"Do you think I don't want to, Hermione? Do you think that I really would not prefer to ignore the rest of the world and just... just let this happen? Do you really think that I would not prefer to be with you rather than with the Dark Lord? I thought you were the brightest witch of Hogwarts, but apparently, we were all wrong." He sneered, yanking his arm away from her tight grip.

"It doesn't look like that at all, though." She affirmed, standing tall and trying to suppress her need to simply yank him back to her before he could ever exit the door.

He stopped in his tracks, his back turned to her as she could see his broad shoulders move under the impulse of full breaths to regain his composure. She stood there, just like him, facing his back as her shoulders and chest followed his same nervous movements. He seemed to lose that battle, though, as he suddenly turned around, left the little jar on the desk, and rushed to her.

Before she had time to blink, he took her in his arms and crushed his lips to hers. Hermione was sure that her heart had just leapt right out of her chest as he tightened his hold on her and kissed her more deeply.

Her legs trembled, threatening to let her fall, and his hands grabbed her hips forcefully, pushing her into him and keeping her on her feet at the same time.

She barely had the time to moan in his mouth and to brush her hips against his erection, that he moved away as brusquely as he had attacked her.

"Does it look like I don't care?" He whispered in her ear before turning around with a start, his billowing cloak following behind him as the door crashed shut and she was left there, with her lips swollen and her heart beating madly in her chest, wholly shaken with passion.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** **Alright, folks, we finally earn our rating here. So, be warned, this chapter is M!**

 **Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!**

 **And a huge thank you to my wonderful Beta Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

It took her more than five minutes before Hermione was able to close her mouth and cease that silly smile that was hurting her jaws. Then, brushing her clothes and passing a hand through her hair hoping she didn't look like she has just been kissed the hell out of her, she Disillusioned herself and rushed out of the door to reach Dumbledore's office.

When Hermione got to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore had poured and spread the contents of the jar on his hand, and the two had been silently waiting for some effects.

So Hermione took her seat quietly across the Headmaster and beside Severus and waited with them to see what happened.

None of them even dared to breathe a little louder as the Headmaster had his arm stretched on the desk, all of their eyes glued to his darkened hand and she could barely hear a clock ticking somewhere in the office.

The only thing that she was aware of was that she was hungry as her stomach started to burn. The last time she had eaten was that morning at seven and a half before rushing to Severus' office, and she was sure that she had missed lunch. Judging by her state of hunger, she could tell that it was over 3 PM and she couldn't wait to put something – anything – under her teeth.

Nevertheless, not once did she move her concentrated gaze away from Dumbledore's hand, not even to give a furtive glance to her Professor sat in a chair beside hers.

What if she had made some mistakes? What if she had miscalculated some ingredients? She had not really been herself in the last few days, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious about her creation. Severus had checked the final product, and she was sure he would not let that ointment even brush Dumbledore's skin if he had not deemed it perfect. Still, she couldn't ignore the fact that she had done everything to distract him lately. She hadn't done it on purpose, but they both had not been at their best shape, and now she wondered if she should have been less preoccupied on her and Severus' future and more worried about the actual present and, most importantly, Dumbledore's life.

It would be tragically ironic if, in the end, she was the one to kill Dumbledore accidentally.

Maybe a few minutes, or half an hour, or hours had gone by before Dumbledore's hand started to clear, some of the black lines that had signed his hand were finally retreating, making his hand resemble the right one.

Apparently, they had all been thinking her same catastrophic thoughts as they all let a big sigh of relief out of their lips.

"How are you feeling, Albus?" Severus asked, reaching for Dumbledore's hand to inspect it.

"I feel... normal, fine. What do you think?" Dumbledore replied as he checked his hand himself.

"I think it is working. With two or three treatments your hand should be as good as new." Hermione couldn't believe it, but it was the first that she saw Severus smile, a real smile that let his teeth show shyly between his lips.

"Well, I believe it is time to celebrate then." And with that, the Headmaster reached for one of the drawers of his desk to take out a bottle of Firewhisky. He poured a bit for each of them, and though Hermione was well aware that she was on an empty stomach, she didn't refuse a bit of induced relaxation after that long day.

"Now, I believe it is time for you two to take a little break. I'm sure that Hermione can brew the other two concoctions tomorrow morning and the world won't fall if you relax a bit before the grand finale. You both deserved it, my dears. Go go, I don't want to see any of you until tomorrow morning!"

* * *

They found themselves, both bewildered, back to Severus' quarters as they were both obliged to grab a handful of powder to use the Floo while the Headmaster didn't stop smiling for even a second.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am starving." Hermione started cheerfully as she finally realized that her cream had worked flawlessly.

"I will summon something from the kitchens," Severus replied still skeptical as a tray full of food appeared in front of his couch.

Hermione didn't wait to sit down and uncover all the delights that were in front of her as just in a second moment she decided to make space for Severus and share the food.

They ate in an unknown quietness as they stared in amiable silence the darkness out of the windows and all they could hear was the wind outside that was gaining its strength as the night progressed.

"You should remember to eat more often." Severus pointed out as she didn't refrain from getting another portion on her plate, utterly oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Look who's talking." She replied with an amused and a tiny bit reproachful raised eyebrow.

She was replied with a silent scowl at which she just smiled happily.

"I really needed this." She said as she let herself go on the back of the couch finally satiated.

"For how strange it may sound, I do agree with you." She chuckled amusedly as she turned her head to get a glimpse of his light smirk hidden under his black hair.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked as, her shyness forgotten – much probably due to the excellent Firewhisky the Headmaster had offered – she moved nearer to him until their arms were practically touching.

"Rest for a while. I don't know when it was the last time I had a few uninterrupted hours of sleep." She sighed wistfully as she thought about her bed.

"May I sleep with you?" Before her words were completely out of her mouth, she felt Severus go rigid by her side as his back straightened instinctively. "I am not trying to seduce you-" She said as she could feel her cheeks burn furiously. "-I only want to sleep, like you I haven't had a decent sleep in a long while." And it was true. She hadn't slept for more than a few hours in a week. Her lack of sleep had often brought her to think more about sleeping and, being often alone in his quarters, she had often longed to take a long nap in his bed and in her daydreams, she hadn't minded a bit of company.

"I've never slept with anyone." He blurted out in what looked like a harsh tone but that she had come to know that more often it was only self-consciousness at something unknown.

"I thought..." She started confused but looking at her face, he caught on soon on her misunderstanding.

"I've never slept with anyone in a bed all night before." He amended, his hair formed a curtain on his face, impeding her to see his expression.

"Neither have I... in any sense, actually." She added as the embarrassment of the situation pushed her to stand up and get as far away as possible.

She turned her back to him as she looked out the windows, wondering how he was looking at her in that right moment and not having the courage to turn around and to see what she feared.

But after a prolonged silence and right before she decided to turn around to check if she was still not alone in the room, she felt his hands reach for her hips.

"That's another reason why you should not sleep with me... in any sense." He spoke gravely into her ear before letting his hands fall from her body.

She turned around quickly before he could walk away from that conversation again. "No, I don't think it is." She replied, more self-confident than she actually felt.

He stopped in his tracks and even though his back was turned to her, it didn't impede her from hearing his long sigh of tiredness.

"I can't help wondering if you even have a little bit of self-preservation left after these six years at Hogwarts." Hermione frowned, confused, taking a few steps towards him.

"I do!" She answered fast.

"Do you really?" He turned around so fast that it almost startled her. "You want to associate yourself with one of the worst Death-Eaters at every cost: it seems you are quite a masochist, Hermione." He snarled, nearing her with his most intimidating demeanor, using his height to tower over her but all she did – and maybe he was right when he said she had lost her sense of self-preservation – was to erase their few inches of distance as she felt her chest touch his robes.

"You are not one of them, stop saying it." But her voice came out as a plead, contradicting her rigid stance.

"It doesn't matter how much you try to convince yourself and me of this pitiful lie, Hermione, the truth won't change. I told you I killed, I told you I tortured thousands of people, and still, you are here. I begin to think that I am not the only one with problems here." But his tone was almost gentle as his lips lifted a bit in a bitter-sweet smile

"Because I know you were obliged to do all those things, I know you are not that kind of person." She reached out with her hand to grasp his collar in an attempt to keep him there because she knew that when he became calm, it was the moment in which most likely he would walk away from her.

"You keep forgetting that at the beginning I was very willing to do all those things." But Hermione only tightened her grip on his robes, feeling her eyes fill with tears she had no intention of sharing in front of him.

"I don't believe you." She said more vigorously as if by her words she could erase those thoughts.

"But it doesn't change that it is true. There are so many things you still don't know and that if you knew, you would not look at me twice again. I have been cruel enough in my life, Hermione, at least spare me the cruelty of taking away your innocence when you don't know who you are really offering it to." She relented her hard hold a little at his suffered words but didn't let go.

"Then just sleep with me. For a few hours, just for a few hours, let's forget about this war, about You-Know-Who, the world that may end in few days, the potion, the Horcruxes, your past and what you have done. Just for a few hours, I want to be with the person I love. I don't care if I made you up. If you are not truly the person I believe you are, I just don't want to know, and I don't care if it is reckless or stupid of me, or if it is wrong and unethical, or whatever. Please, indulge my illusion just for a few hours, then hell may break loose, but give me this momentary and so much deserved rest." His breath became more labored just like hers as if the mere thought that those few hours of rest may actually happen moved him so much that he couldn't breathe.

He closed his eyes, struggling with himself, and when she thought he would deny her again, he slowly took her hand in his and moved towards the bedroom. Finally, she could let her sigh of relief go silently, still afraid that something may destroy that brief peacefulness.

He opened the door to his bedroom slowly, flicking a few candles on with a silent spell. When they reached the bed, her hand was still in his as she hoped that he wouldn't notice how it was slightly trembling but if he did – and Hermione wondered how he could have not – he didn't point it out.

Finally turning to her, she discovered that she was not the only one afraid of this new situation. Even though he kept his firm composure, his eyes showed some restlessness as he didn't know what to do. Made bold by his reticence once again, she reached for the upper button of his robes to undo it. He stood still, with a silent frown of confusion, but he didn't back away. Swearing in her head, she tried to keep her hands still but it didn't matter how much she tried, they just kept shaking as she undid each and one of the many buttons of his robes.

Taking a sigh of relief when the last one was undone, she gently eased the heavy garment off his shoulders, briefly wondering how he had not gone on fire with all those clothes on in his more than warm quarters.

She took a moment just to look at him in one of those rare moments in which he only wore his white shirt and his pants. He was thin but well-muscled, it surely wouldn't have hurt him to eat a little bit more. He was tall, Merlin, he was so tall! Her forehead barely reached his shoulders and with his robes off and his thin form more pronounced, he just looked taller, even if less imposing.

She knelt down, and she could feel his posture go rigid and stiff before she simply took off his dragon hide boots. She stood again, looking at him in the dim romantic light of the candles and she could barely restrain herself from kissing him when he looked just so scared and insecure.

She wanted to reassure him in some way but she didn't know how as she couldn't help her hands from shaking incessantly.

After a couple of minutes in which they had both stood looking at each other almost mesmerized, he took her to seat at the end of the bed and taking her calves, he freed her from her shoes as well. She still had her shirt and skirt on, and she was more than sure that Severus would never let her take them off.

He stood there, staring at her as she backed further back till her back touched the soft headboard, and she could see his nostrils flare and his eyes dilate before he let his mask of indifference fall on his face again.

He reached the right bedside and slowly, almost unnaturally – as if it were the first time he had ever touched a bed – he lay himself down by her side, his eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling.

His breaths were heavy as if he was undergoing considerable effort and Hermione found herself almost sorry for he had to face Merlin knew what internal battle for her.

Gathering all her courage, she drew nearer to him, checking his face at every little movement she did. By the time she got to touch his chest with her hand, his chest had moved erratically under her fingers. Feeling herself a little overwhelmed by that situation that was new as much as complicated, she didn't know if the best solution was to get up and go away: her maddening heart-beat would placate, and Severus himself would feel more at ease. Maybe she had pushed him a little too far, a little too soon.

"Am I hurting you?" Hermione knew he would understand that the kind of hurt she was talking about was all psychological.

"No, quite the contrary." He drawled as she could see an amused half-smile form on his lips.

"I am afraid I don't understand." She replied with a frown of confusion.

"I... the woman I... want is willingly in my bed while it looks like the world won't fall in the next few hours. I am having a hard time, Hermione, but not for the reasons you thought." She could feel her heart skip a beat as the sense of those words dawned in her mind.

Incapable of resisting that temptation, Hermione moved a little nearer until she had no other choice but to rest her head on his arm and her thigh over his.

"You can't blame me for being confused: you tell me you want me, but then you want me to be with someone else. It is so difficult to understand you sometimes." She could feel his hand tightening into a fist near her hip as he grunted in displeasure.

"I can't believe I am saying this but you are even worse than the Dark Lord himself: every time I am trying to do the right thing, it seems that your goal is to make it harder in every possible way!" He was about to untangle himself from her, but she didn't give him a chance as she grabbed his arm to yank him back.

"No, don't you dare leave! Stop fighting me, Severus, please." Hermione didn't have much time to understand what was happening as soon as her words were out: before she could even blink, Severus had turned around and pushed them both back on the bed, hovering over her.

"Do you think that I want to? Believe me, Hermione, all I want to do is to give in, and it is so damn hard to resist when all you do is to tempt me. You tell me you want me, that you love me, and all I want to do is to show you how much your feelings are returned. Do you think that I love the idea of you with someone else? It enrages me, it makes me go crazy, it makes me want to lock you up in this room and make you mine in every possible way. Can you understand now, even a bit, how much it costs me to let you go?" Severus growled and she would have been scared if a part of her hadn't been excited by those words: it was the first time that Severus admitted his feelings for her, even if with a long periphrase.

"Then show me." She replied looking straight into his eyes, raising her hands to push back the hair that had fallen to cover his face. She didn't know where that boldness had come from, but she started to think that Severus may, in fact, be right when he said that she had a mild – or maybe not so mild – tendency for masochism.

Nevertheless, she got the result she wanted: Severus crashed his lips to hers, even though more in anger than for desire and she lay there, passive, bearing enthusiastically that so yearned attack. His body was massive on hers as he didn't restrain himself from grinding his erection against her thigh but she didn't mind. Instead, she welcomed it as her hands grabbed his hips to pull him closer.

He grunted loudly as she spread her thighs to welcome him in the cradle of legs so that she could finally gain some desired friction. She was so inebriated by his desire for her that she could feel him pulse right against her heated center and all of her fears and reticences flew right out of the window. It didn't matter how inexperienced she was. It seemed her body knew exactly what to do as her back arched of its own volition to keep his body near hers and as her hips thrust forward to create that delicious friction that risked to make them both lose control before either of them had the chance to discard a single garment.

His lips finally moved away from hers, but if she thought she could finally regain some of her lost lucidity, she was wrong as his lips attacked her neck, right over her pulse, his tongue darting out to lick it in a vain attempt to placate it.

She almost sobbed from the intensity of all those new feelings, of his body crushing hers, of his erection rubbing right on her core, of his hands that tried to keep her still as she couldn't bear all those new sensations.

She was barely aware of his fingers undoing her shirt until she felt his hands on her overheated flesh. She couldn't help to look down to see that view: his hands were splayed open over her hips, gently grazing her flesh as if he was almost afraid of hurting her and she realized that he had stopped all his movements as he checked her reaction at that first real contact.

Hermione almost came simply by that view: his eyes very dilated and his lips parted as he stared at her with a look akin to adoration and she let him see every single one of the emotions expressed on her face as she arched her back, prompting him to touch her more. And he did, slowly, with his eyes still fixed on her face, he grazed the flesh right over her ribs before reaching her bra-covered breasts. She closed her eyes as the sensation of his hands on such a private part of her body became almost unbearable. Then his hands reached down behind her back to undo her bra as she couldn't help to push more of herself into his body, thrusting, arching, grinding, whatever worked as long as she could feel his heat.

His mouth descended over her breasts, licking, sucking, taking each and one of her nipples between his teeth and gently biting as pleasure mixed with pain, his hands keeping her tight against him as their body were almost flush against one other.

She realized, as his hands reached down to push her gown down, that it wasn't fair she was being disrobed while he was still fully dressed. Naturally, she decided to remedy the situation. Raising her trembling hands, she tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, and when she was finally able to succeed in her goal, she realized she was actually completely naked under him. Surprised, she looked up at Severus, narrowing her eyes in anger at the mirth that showed in his eyes behind the cloud of desire.

He moved on his knees, taking the chance to take off his shirt and to look at her. Hermione herself didn't waste the opportunity to stare at him: his chest was more well-muscled and full than she had expected while his skin was covered in old and recent scars. Just then, Severus himself seemed to realize his state of nakedness as his eyes moved back to hers to check her reaction. He stood still, his breath hitching with apparent desire and at the same time fear that she may walk away right then. Hermione smiled at him, a gentle and a bit insecure smile before sitting up and reaching out with her hands to touch him. As his eyes closed at that first personal touch and Merlin knew after how many years, she couldn't help to move her mouth to taste his skin. She moaned right against his chest as she recognized his scent as her lips kissed every inch of skin she could reach.

Hesitantly, she moved her hands from his hips down to the zipper of his tended trousers. He moved his head a bit backward as his eyes stared at her tentative movements. It took her a while before her trembling fingers were able to undo the first button and to push down the zipper. She then risked a glance at his face to check his reaction, and if she had had any hesitation of going on with that plan, it melted away as she looked at his dilated and expecting eyes. Without breaking their eye contact, she moved her fingers inside his trousers, and then inside his boxers to grab his manhood. His breath hitched as soon as her fingers had grazed his tip and his hips jerked forward involuntarily.

She may never have had any kind of sexual experience, but it didn't mean she was not informed on how to touch a man. Nevertheless, for how much she tried to look less intimated by that situation than she was actually feeling, she couldn't help to look back down to his length. It was hard but at the same time velvety, soft, spongy as she caressed its wet head... and it was big: how the hell was it supposed to get inside of her?

Before she could really have time to explore him thoroughly and to have all of her curiosities satisfied, he gently pushed her back to lie on the bed as he hastily but smoothly took his trousers off. He was back on her in less than a few seconds and if having his clothed body on her had been fantastic, having him on her and between her legs completely naked was a sensation that, for once in her life, she didn't have enough words to describe. He was warm, familiar, safe, comfortable and she couldn't help to be completely overwhelmed.

His hands were once again all over her: on her breasts, on her stomach, on her belly, on her hips, grabbing, caressing, soothing, feeling her all until his right hand tentatively reached down to her folds.

She would have been embarrassed by how wet she could feel herself down there if Severus hadn't let out a growl of pure male satisfaction as his fingers probed her femininity with gentle stroking. After she had probably soaked the entire duvet, he let one finger slip gently inside and then going back outside to caress her.

As she neared her peak under his hand, she couldn't refrain from grabbing any part of his body she could reach: his face, his hair, his shoulders, his hips, trying to move him closer. He wouldn't budge as he kept tormenting her with his fingers until she let go shamelessly with a moan.

Sure that she was on fire, she looked up at him with unfocused eyes. He was looking down at her with a little satisfied and gentle smile at the corner of his lips and with an expression of utter relaxation as if he had been the one to get off.

Still gloating in her afterglow, she grabbed his face to kiss him, afraid that he might get away now, but all he did was reposition himself so that his manhood was resting on her still throbbing center, brushing slowly to create pleasurable friction.

"We can stop if you want." He asked kindly by her ear, and she was sure that she could come again just by listening to his voice.

"Don't you dare!" Was all she was able to breathe out as she could feel herself near another peak with the gentle grinding of his hips.

He chuckled! Severus Snape chuckled in her ear, a deep, husky sound that went straight to her core and before she could recover she felt his hand positioning his length right at her entrance. He slipped smoothly inside a little bit more than an inch before the sensation became too much and she clapped her walls at the intrusion instinctively. He moaned as she could feel his forearms tremble at the side of her head.

Hermione knew her first time would not exactly be a pleasurable experience, and so far, she could really not complain, but she had not expected that piercing pain as if something was trying to tear her apart as he tried to gain inch after inch by pushing his hips forward.

She must have said something or let out a grunt of pain for he stilled over her, resuming his soothing touches over her body, trying to distract her.

"Let me inside, Hermione." He whispered in his deepest tone that went straight to her core as her walls relaxed of their own volition and with one swift push their hips connected, and he was all inside of her.

It didn't matter how much she tried to restrain herself, she cried out in pain, breathing hard as the pain reached its peak. Severus stilled again but didn't move away, resting inside of her but keeping whispering sweet nothings to placate her, telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt around him, how good she smelled, how he had wanted all this for so long. As soon as her pain subsided, she let herself be cuddled by his words and his presence inside of her only held a little discomfort.

As soon as she kissed him again to reassure him that everything was alright, he resumed his movements, gently and slowly drawing his hips back for then pushing forward again. It felt... uncomfortable as if her walls were burning a little, but Hermione realized that at least it didn't hurt like hell anymore.

She knew Severus was making a serious effort of being as gentle as he could, looking for her face every couple of seconds. After a while, even that burning sensation subsided, and she could actually feel something, a vague and distant pleasure. Trying to heighten that fleeting sensation, she pointed her feet down and pushed her hips, tentatively meeting his slow thrusts. But as soon as she found the right angle, Severus stilled over her, swearing something under his breath before pushing back on his knees, his manhood still fully hard inside her.

She looked at him dubiously as she saw him close his eyes and breathe hard.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked hesitantly.

He chuckled, again. "No, quite the contrary" He replied looking at her with such an enamored expression that she barely was able to restrain her hips from bucking under his.

Grunting again as her walls contracted automatically, he moved back on her, one hand by her side to support his weight and one inserted between them. His thumb reached her folds, parting them, touching her clit as his hips resumed their gentle pacing. Feeling her pleasure doubled, with his length stroking her and his thumb moving at the same rhythm, she moaned surprised.

"More" She couldn't resist moaning as she tried to move her hips to meet his impossibly slow thrusts.

Groaning, he let his thrusts get deeper, stroking that right spot that combined with the movements of his thumb made her near her peak so fast that she felt almost overwhelmed. Grabbing his hips to prompt him to move more quickly, he finally relented with a growl of satisfaction, making her lose that last nip of rationality as her walls started to clench around him. Losing all composure, she cried out as he kept prolonging her orgasm with each targeted thrust.

She had not even realized that he had come with her until he lay flush by her side. She instinctively turned towards him, resting her head on his sweated chest. Not even a full minute had gone by before she felt his arm wind around her shoulders to move her nearer. She complied, moving her hand to his stomach and her leg over his. They couldn't get nearer even if they had wanted to since she was practically clinging to him.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that but long enough for her to start falling asleep when he gently disentangled her from him to stand up, stark naked and not even a bit self-conscious as he walked back to his living-room.

Hermione followed him with her eyes, too tired to try and get up as all the fatigue of the last days was finally catching up with her now. He came back in less than a minute, one hand carrying a phial while the other carried a jar.

"Drink this." He almost whispered as he sat by her side and busied himself to open the jar.

A contraception potion directly from the Potions Master: she didn't know why, but that silly and straightforward thought reignited her slightly again.

As soon as she laid the phial on the bedside table, she felt his fingers venture between her folds once more. Raising her head, she looked at him questioningly.

"It is for bruises." He explained succinctly but with a gentle twinkling in his eyes that reassured her.

She watched him put everything on the bedside table before climbing back to bed on the right side. Once again, he lay on his back, and she didn't hesitate to scoot closer to lay her head on his chest.

She waited for his arm to tuck her closer but it didn't happen this time. Instead, he stood rigid watching the ceiling pensively.

"Do you regret it?" Surprisingly, he was the one to ask that question.

Before answering, she tightened her grip on him, pulling him as close as she could.

"That's the silliest thing I have ever heard you say." She replied amused as she felt him breathe again under her head.

"Are you deliberately insulting your teacher, Miss Granger?" He replied in the same playful tone.

"I would never dare! The worst I can do is to bed him." He chuckled, again, and she felt his muscles move right under her head, and she couldn't resist the impulse to hug him closer.

"Oh, well, if that is the case then there is nothing to fear." Finally, she felt his arm reach for her hips to enclose her to him. Merlin, she had never felt more at peace than in that right moment.

"And do you?" She asked insecure, playing with the sparse hair on his chest.

She heard him take in a deep breath before answering and she became afraid of what his answer may be. "I would never regret it but can I say that I regret it for you?"

She couldn't help to huff in mild annoyance. "No, you can't say." She raised her head up, an amused smile moving her lips.

"Already trying to dictate what I shall say or do?" He replied with a raised eyebrow, but she could see his eyes shine with mirth.

"Just when you say or do incongruous things... which happens quite often, actually." He scowled surprised as she couldn't hold her laugh anymore.

"You are aware of the fact that you are in my bed, in my bedroom, in my quarters?" The corners of his lips moved slightly up against his will.

"As if I could ever forget it, I don't ever want to go away from here." She replied with such adoration in her voice that she couldn't help a slight blush to appear on her cheeks.

"In less than a few hours we will have to-" But she placed a finger on his lips to shush him, shaking her head in disapproval.

"None of that! You promised me. No war, no impossible potions, no strategies, for a couple of hours I just want to be with the man I love." She let her finger move away from his lips only when he had nodded his approval, then kissing him one last time, she lay her head back on his chest, and she closed her eyes. For a couple of hours, the rest of the world could go to hell.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Yes, folks, some other M moments in this chapter! Hope you like it!**

 **A huge thank you to my amazing Beta-Reader, MWolfe13! If this story is any good is because of her!**

* * *

A couple of hours turned out to be a full ten hours of needed sleep. Hermione woke up at five in the morning, startled by Severus' brusque movements as he got up from the bed fast. Still in a haze of sleep, she blinked a few times before she was able to focus on Severus' figure in the complete darkness of the hour.

"What's going on?" She asked alarmed as soon as she spotted him dressing in a rush.

"The Dark Lord," Severus said before grabbing his wand from the bedside table and rushing to the door.

Surprisingly, he abruptly stopped on the threshold, turning around to stare at her as she tried to get up hastily to reach him, an entirely tricky action since the duvets had decided to impede her.

She stilled, one foot successfully down and one still tangled in the sheets, as she saw him stall on the threshold before he rushed back in long, fast strides, grabbed her face almost painfully, and kissed her fiercely. Before she could even have the time to respond, he was gone and the door that connected his quarters to the ground-floor slammed shut soundly.

* * *

As soon as finished her last two concoctions, she went to the Great Hall for lunch. It was one in the afternoon, and Severus was not back yet. As soon as she had been able to untangle herself from the sheets she had decided to take a bath, collect her clothes from the bedroom floor, and rush to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. Hermione had been alone at the table, which she hadn't really minded: she had not exactly been in the mood for talking. After a couple of hours from Severus' abrupt departure that morning, Hermione had been worried, but after ten hours of his absence, she still wondered how she had not had a heart attack yet.

No matter what she did, her thoughts always returned back to Severus. Hermione was completely surprised at how the events had unfolded the previous evening. She had expected anything but what had actually happened.

Not that she minded it, of course. For once, reality had overcome her imagination. The previous night, Severus had... loved her. Yes, that was indeed the right word. He may never tell her those words that she had no problem speaking out aloud, but he had shown it in every action. The way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her, cherished her... no, there was no doubt, he loved her just as much as she loved him.

And now he was with the Dark Lord, and she was worried sick.

The first thing she did as soon as she passed the doors of the Great Hall was to look up at the High Table, but Severus was not there.

The Headmaster, though, seemed preoccupied as much as her when at the end of the lunch, the place beside Hagrid was still empty. Moving his eyes in her direction, he questioned her with his gaze about that prolonged absence. She ruefully shook her head, indicating her ignorance on Severus' whereabouts.

When she was about to get up at 2:30 and when the Great Hall was nearly deserted, Severus appeared from the side door next to the High Table.

It took her all her will not to stand up and rush in his direction, but in the end she opted to stay put and check him over from her seat. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized he was unharmed. Nobody noticed his late presence but she and the Headmaster as they both looked at him quizzically.

Surprisingly, Severus's gaze met hers first, giving a half-smile to reassure her before turning towards the Headmaster. She looked intently at the High Table, trying to understand what was going on between the two but she wasn't able to decipher what they communicated to each other silently.

It took her a while to decide whether to head to Severus' quarters right away or stay throughout his lunch. In the end, she decided that the best course of action would be to get away from there as soon as possible before her Gryffindor nature took over and she approached him shamelessly.

* * *

Reaching his quarters, she paced back and forth in the living room, waiting for him to be back. Something had happened, Hermione was sure of that. First, Severus would never in a thousand years smile at her in a public space such as the Great Hall unless something grave had happened and he wanted to distract her. Second, she was not blind, and even though she was a Gryffindor, which meant being naive to the impossible, she couldn't have mistaken the meaningful gaze that Severus had shared with the Headmaster.

When Hermione was about to open the door and rush back to the Great Hall in search of Severus, the Floo connection finally activated and Severus came in with the Headmaster in tow.

"What's happened?" She asked as she tried to control her agitation but she apparently failed miserably as her voice came out at a pitch higher than usual.

"The deed is tomorrow," Severus admitted concisely.

"At what time?" She knew that a day didn't make much difference, but still she couldn't help her preoccupation to raise at that news.

"At sunset, when lessons are over, and everybody is not out of their Common rooms for dinner yet." The Headmaster supplied.

She nodded, trying to process what she had just heard but her semblance of calmness and professionalism was only that, a semblance. Inside her, she couldn't think over the maddening beat of her heart.

She was about to ask some other question when the Floo connection ignited again. Her Head of House appeared with a pronounced frown of preoccupation on her forehead as her eyes tried to scan their expressions, trying to understand the general feeling of the room.

"Now that we are all here, we can't procrastinate this any longer. We have to go into every detail about tomorrow and what will happen soon after our charade starts. Who wants to go first?" Even though the situation was tragic, she barely stifled a giggle when she felt the automatic impulse to wave her hand in the air to answer the question.

"I prepared the other concoctions this morning, and the Draught of Living Dead and the Wiggenweld Potion are ready as well." She started, maintaining her composure successfully.

"Perfect, I shall apply one today and one tomorrow, is that right, Severus?" Severus simply nodded.

"Alright, moving forward, Severus and I have briefly talked about how the events should enfold tomorrow afternoon. We decided that the best place for the deed to happen is the Astronomy Tower. It was a hard decision to make, but it is isolated from the more crowded places as well as the nearest to the Room of Requirement. The path that the Death-Eaters shall take from there to reach the Astronomy Tower is the less packed at that time. I also would like to repeat one important thing: nobody and I underline, nobody except us must know what is going to happen tomorrow afternoon. As soon as the Death-Eaters appear from the Vanishing Cabinet, Draco will take them to the Astronomy Tower, where Severus and I will be waiting. I will take the Draught of Living Dead as soon as I am informed that they have arrived and hopefully, the Stunning curse of Severus should trigger the effects of the Draught. As soon as I am down, Severus will take the Death-Eaters out." Dumbledore looked at them over his glasses, making sure that all the points so far discussed were well assimilated. As soon as they all nodded, he went on with his speech.

"I reflected a lot about this, and I came to the conclusion that the most sensible solution would be for Hermione to be present on the Astronomy Tower." He stopped as if he had known all along that that affirmation would have some protests.

"Why her?" Severus asked alarmed, glaring at Dumbledore.

"Because I need Minerva in the school, Severus. We can't be sure you will be successful in taking the Death-Eaters out as soon as we would like, they may want to make some noise before going, and the only one who can face a situation like that is Minerva. I will take care of Disillusioning Hermione with the strongest spell I know, I assure you that they won't realize she is there." Dumbledore replied softly but in his most authoritative tone.

"I will do it." Hermione asserted, nodding towards the Headmaster.

"You don't know what you are agreeing to, Granger," Severus growled, taking a menacing step towards her.

"There is no other choice, the Headmaster is right: shall the Death-Eaters decide to take a stroll in the school, the only one capable of stopping them from harming the students is Professor McGonagall." She replied keeping her head up to face him.

"Do you really want to face Dolohov again, Granger? Because he will be there, with Bellatrix and the Carrows. For how much the Headmaster's magic can be strong, they all are powerful enough wizards to be able to discern even a strong Disillusioning charm less than six feet away. What will you do then?" He barked, by then towering over her with his imposing height and she had to resist the urge to take a few steps back.

Nothing, she knew she would be able to do nothing, it would take them less than two seconds to send her a curse to kill her.

"Now, Severus, I don't think there is any reason to be that dramatic, I am more than sure that there are a really few chances for them to notice my spell." The Headmaster supplied when she wasn't able to muster a reply.

"I believe there is a high probability for them to notice your spell, Headmaster. They are our enemies, but it is no reason for us to underestimate them. It is very likely that something could go wrong and I think it would be reckless of us to let Granger face that possibility." Severus had calmed now, and his words sounded less personal but still not less scary. Once again, she had been deceived by Dumbledore, and she had been falling for it.

"What about the Invisibility Cloak, magic cannot detect it," The Headmaster proposed.

"I believe it is still hazardous." Severus underlined, his movements losing his usual composure as he started pacing back and forth in the room.

"Then we will stick to this plan unless something better comes in our mind before tomorrow afternoon. Everything clear, then?" Hermione and McGonagall nodded while Severus rushed to his room and slammed the door behind him, pointing out his disapproval.

They all stood there staring at the closed door, but before the situation could become too embarrassing, the Headmaster broke the silence. "Well, now that everything is settled, I shall go get ready for dinner. Minerva, are you coming with me?" Minerva turned towards her, eyeing her skeptically.

"Hermione, are you coming with us?" McGonagall asked her, scrutinizing for her reaction.

"I... I think I will stay here, to try to talk to Professor Snape and see if we can come up with a better solution." She knew that what she had just said sounded improbable even to her ears, but that was the best excuse she could come up with quickly.

"Are you sure?" Feeling her face blush profusely at that insistence, she nodded before adding: "yes, I will see you at dinner." Her Professor sighed almost disappointed at that reply, but nevertheless, she had no other choice but to follow the amused Headmaster to the Floo connection.

As soon as the last flames of the Floo turned off, she knocked on the bedroom door.

"Severus?" She called out tentatively, and before she could blink, the door barked open startling her.

"Are you completely suicidal?" He burst angrily, taking a few steps towards until their chests were touching.

"You know it is the best solution." She replied as soon as she was able to refrain her impulse to back away.

"The best solution for everyone except you!" He growled, grabbing her arms almost painfully.

"With the Invisibility Cloak, it is improbable that they will be able to spot me." She stood tall, bearing his tight grip.

"Have you always been this daft, Granger?" He sneered, pushing her aside and letting her go.

"Has it ever occurred to you that that is not the only risk you could face? First all, it is not so unlikely as you think. What could ever happen in December, in Scotland, on a high tower, Granger? Has it ever passed your brilliant mind that a gust of wind could move your precious Invisibility Cloak? Shall this miraculously not happen, it doesn't mean that things will work out exactly as we would like them to. What if my spell doesn't work? What if it bounces on you? What if things get out of our hands? Have you ever thought about this?" She swallowed nervously as his most professional tone talked about all the not so impossible risks that – to tell the truth – she had never thought about.

"Things would remain the same if Professor McGonagall took my place." She knew it was a stupid answer and it would enrage him to no end, and she had not been wrong. In a few quick strides, Severus was once again in front of her, with a glare that could kill.

"Professor McGonagall can take care of herself, while you are not even able to think of the obvious!" He barked, looming over her menacingly.

She shamefully lowered her head, bearing that outburst with silence as she tried to think about a better solution.

"I could hide by the stairs with the Invisibility Cloak so I won't be in their direct view, and I will be protected from the wind." She affirmed triumphantly, but all she gained was another fierce grip on her arms.

"I swear, Granger, that if you die, I will find a way to resurrect you so that I can kill you myself!" He growled before rushing out of the room in a swirl of robes.

It was not exactly the kind of love declaration she had expected, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

Severus strode down the hallways in a halo of darkness as his cloak swirled behind him more than usual. He didn't restrain some of the nastiest glares to whoever he met on the way to the Headmaster's office.

After a really long time, Severus realized he had been a complete and utter fool: he had listened to Dumbledore, and he had fallen in love with Granger. The last time he had made mistakes big as these had been when he had decided to join the Dark Lord over twenty years before.

Since then, he had promised himself never to make similar mistakes again, and now, after twenty years, he was making the same mistake twice.

That plan was suicidal and not only for Hermione but for all three of them. He was more than sure that it wasn't so unlikely that more than one thing could go wrong with that stupid plan and they would all bear the consequences of it.

He slammed the door open, strode to the Headmaster's desk, and slapped his hands hard on the surface. The barely curious gaze the Headmaster gave him made nothing to calm down his rage.

"I presume you are not happy with the plan, Severus?" The Headmaster had even the courage of smiling with his eyes.

"You presume well, Albus, how can you believe a plan stupid like this could ever work?" He snarled, barely containing the desire to strangle the older wizard with his bare hands in that right moment.

"You are too suspicious for your own good, Severus." The Headmaster replied, standing up with a sigh.

"And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" He turned around, facing Albus that now was by his side across the desk.

"We both know that tomorrow afternoon half of the most loyal Death-Eaters of Tom will be busy spreading terror in the school, while the other half will reach us at the Astronomy Tower. I can't leave the school unprotected with all those Death-Eaters around, and Minerva is the only one that can gather the teaching staff to block a serious attack. There is no place where Hermione could be safer than with us on the Astronomy Tower: nobody will look for her presence there, Severus, right under their noses." Severus ignored the Headmaster's twinkle and sneered, still enraged.

"She will stay by the stairs with the Invisibility Cloak. I know... I can't convince her to back down, but I tell you this, Albus: if things should go bad, the first thing I will do is get her safe and I won't mind leaving you to Bellatrix's wand. Consider yourself warned!" Severus rushed out of the room before he could be called back, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

He took a deep breath as he looked at his shaking hands. He knew Albus was right, he knew that it was the best solution, that it was the less risky one for anyone, but still, he couldn't help to believe it the worst when Hermione was running more risks than anyone else with that plan.

Nothing could happen, and everything could go alright, but it could as well go wrong. Bellatrix Lestrange hated him, and even though she was a loon, she would be much more attentive knowing that all that plan had been his idea. She would be suspicious, guarded, looking around for an ambush and so many things could go wrong if his spell didn't work out as it should.

Merlin, he loved her! If something happened to her, he would not bear it. He couldn't carry the responsibility for the death of the woman he loved again. He would never, never, let it happen, no matter what he had to do to ensure it. He would put his cover in jeopardy, Merlin, he would put his life in danger if it meant he could save Hermione. He hadn't lied to Albus: if things should get ugly, he will take care of protecting her first, and then all the rest could go to hell: Albus, his cover, their plan, the Dark Lord, the Death-Eaters, everything as long as he saved her.

He hated her! Merlin, how he hated her for putting him in such a position again after twenty years.

Enraged by these thoughts, he slammed the door of his personal quarters open. He stood on the threshold as soon as he spotted the girl still sitting on the couch, a pensive look on her face as she turned around to look at him.

He moved his gaze quickly away: he didn't want to see her at that moment, or he would actually fall into the temptation of strangling her for her stupidity.

He strode to his bedroom, hoping to have a few of hours of rest after the hell of a day he had had but before he could close the door, Hermione shouted his name.

"Severus!" He was tempted to close the door anyway, but he wasn't able to resist the pleading in her voice, so he found a compromise: he stood still, but didn't turn around to face her.

"I am sorry." She said softly somewhere near behind him. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth: there was nothing that he hated more than when people tried to apologize for things that they were not sorry in the least.

"I didn't know that besides being obviously daft, you also had become a liar." He drawled, listening carefully to her every little movement until he could feel her right behind him.

He could hear her swear something under her breath before reaching out with one hand to touch his shoulder tentatively. He grunted, trying to warn her to stay away, but she ignored it as she hugged him from behind.

"You know I can't walk away, but it doesn't mean that I am not sorry for the... displeasure it causes you." She almost whispered as she tried to placate him.

He made to move away, disinterested in hearing those empty words but she tightened her hold on his chest so that he could not get away without hurting her.

"Do you think that I am not worried myself? And believe me, Severus, it has nothing to do with my safety. The person I love is going to pretend to kill Dumbledore in front of the worst Death-Eaters of history, do you think I am not worried sick about what is going to happen tomorrow? If something happens to you, I... no, I can't even think about, I can't even imagine what it would be like and what has worried me most in the past few days is how disinterested you looked about your own future. I know what you are feeling, Severus, because I feel it too, the anger, the pain, the frustration, the powerlessness in front of a situation we can't control." He thought he heard her sniff on his back but he didn't dare to move, afraid she may see the all truth in his tormented eyes. He was never meant to survive the war, he had always known as he was sure Albus himself knew it: there was a reason if, after all, the Headmaster had decided to give him the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts that year. He was not meant to survive it.

He had accepted it. No, who was he kidding? He had welcomed that opportunity with open arms. No more wars, no more masters to whom he had to obey, no more pain, just simply no more. It was his chance to be free, and he had accepted the hidden hint that the Headmaster had given him since the beginning of that summer.

Then Hermione came, and all his plans of peace and death had gone to hell. He wanted to live, again. Severus wanted to be free so that he could live and be the kind of man she deserved. But he was a fool if he believed that fate would change just because he wanted to. His destiny was clear, and he could only accept it. Merlin, he didn't want to!

But he couldn't tell her or she would do anything to stop it. And Merlin, he thought amused, he was more than sure that she could change it, but then the outcome of the war would be uncertain. She might save him, but then it didn't take much to know that someone else had to die in his place.

He put a hand in pockets, extracting the little coin he had used to create a portkey, and he turned around, taking her hand in his and pushing the silver Sickle between her fingers. He could and would sacrifice his life for the sake of their victory, but he would not relinquish Hermione's life, too.

"If something shall go wrong tomorrow – may it be the spell, or the Death Eaters or whatever – just use the Portkey. Then wait one day and if I don't come to pick you up then Apparate back to Hogwarts. Is it clear?" He explained slowly, looking Hermione in the eyes to capture her full attention.

She looked at the coin in her hand confused and then back up at him with a hurt look in her eyes as the realization of what he had said hit her.

Knowing it would be useless to object, she nodded before hugging him tightly. Breathing deep in her hair, he gave in to the need of embracing her back. He had forgotten how difficult it could be, how painful it was and for one moment, he wished to disappear, and the hell with the consequences.

As he was still absorbed in his thoughts, Hermione had backed away a little so that she could look at him with what could only be called adoration in her eyes. She gently grabbed his face in her soft, small hands, caressing his angles with the care he had never before experienced. She loved him with such tenderness and she looked at him as if she had never trusted anyone more in her entire life and it made him feel worthy, right... redeemable.

Before he had the chance to move away from that intensity that was confusing him more, she crashed her lips to his, and all the tenderness was gone as she wrapped her arms around his neck as if her same life depended on being attached to him.

He groaned, overwhelmed once again by that warmth that he had craved for so many years. Unable to resist her sweet attack, he let his finger slip down over her hips to then reach her buttocks to lift her up. She moaned into his mouth as she gladly welcomed the opportunity to wrap her legs around his hips and to start brushing her center against his crotch.

Merlin, she was passionate, and he felt like he was going to lose control in a few seconds if he didn't stop her as she tried to get herself off by rocking her hips against his.

She grunted in displeasure as he deposited her on his bed and stopped that delicious friction that would make him finish everything all too soon. He stood at the end of the bed, taking a few minutes to take his breath back and enjoying the view of a Hermione entirely out of control for him as she shed her clothes in a hurry.

As soon as she was completely naked and he had stilled to look at her beautiful form in awe, she knelt on the bed to reach out for the buttons of his robes. He was still admiring her body when he felt her hands slid down the zipper of his trousers.

Looking down at himself, he was still in his white shirt when she inserted her hand in his underpants and took him out. He shut his eyes closed as her hand started to slide up and down slowly on his length. He opened his eyes to look at her, and he felt a mote of tenderness inside his chest as he caught her concentrating on inspecting him with enamored curiosity.

She ducked her head up, checking for his reaction and nodding to herself, as if she had finally reached a resolution, she moved forward until her lips were a few inches away from his erection. He took a deep breath in, trying to slow down his heart before he had a heart attack but when he was sure he had succeeded in his goal, he felt her tongue dart out to lick him, and he lost all the composure he had. Almost growling, he grabbed his face to kiss her.

"Don't you like it?" She asked hesitantly.

He wanted to laugh, and he wasn't able to stifle a soft chuckle to come out of his lips. "The problem is that I do like it, very much." He replied, caressing her cheek softly before pushing her to lie back on the bed as he let himself rest beside her, one arm supporting him as his other hand reached out to touch her curves.

"Then why did you stop me?" She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him suspiciously and he couldn't help a smile to blossom on his lips.

"Do you want our... activity to finish so soon?" He asked, raising an amused eyebrow, and finally, she caught on with the meaning of his words.

"But I want to... do it." She replied shyly and her cheeks colored at her own admission.

He grunted, moving over her, trapping her under his body as he lowered his head to take one nipple in his mouth, lavishing it.

He moved his head lower, taking the opportunity to taste all the skin he could reach, leaving more than a few love bites as his lips descended down over her ribcage, her belly, giving particular attention to her round navel, tracing its contours with his tongue, until he reached her folds. He raised his head up, checking for her reaction and he was satisfied to see that she had propped on her forearms to look over at him, her eyes full of curiosity and desire.

Smiling predatorily, he kept his eyes fixed on hers before lowering his mouth to her wet center, licking her once. Merlin, she was sweet, he couldn't have mistaken that that taste belonged to her in a thousand years. She tasted exactly as she smelled, and even though he wanted to tease her for a while before giving in, he couldn't help himself to taste her once again.

She moaned and looking back up, he was mesmerized by that new view: her head had fallen back, her neck was completely exposed, her breasts were shot upwards, and a deep blush had appeared all over chest. He couldn't help a groan of his own to escape his lips as he tried to relieve some of the pressure by grinding his hips on the mattress but Merlin, he was already so close!

Pushing his hands on her thighs to spread her legs more widely, he got back to work as he decided to speed things up a little by inserting a finger inside her before he came on the duvets.

It took him not more than a couple of minutes to make her come as she eagerly pushed her hips down on his finger, racing for her orgasm as well. He had to squeeze his eyes shut if he didn't want to come before they had even begun as he tried his best not to be too affected by her moans as she climaxed.

He was still trying to keep himself in check when he felt her hands grab his face gently, pushing him upward. He lifted on his forearms, peppering kisses wherever he could reach before she prompted him to kiss her lips once again. She didn't seem to care that she could taste herself on his lips as she kissed him eagerly, almost more ignited by passion than before.

"It is not fair." She moaned as she enclosed him between her thighs, holding him near.

"What?" He asked confused as he was barely able to concentrate.

"That you got to do it and I didn't." She replied almost reproachfully as he couldn't help his chuckle to leave his lips.

"You will, I promise." He groaned as, between all their movements, his erection found its way right at her slipping entrance.

Seizing the opportunity, Hermione herself pushed her hips upward to get him inside her, and he had to use all his self-control not to come right there and then as he slipped inside her to the hilt.

He stilled all his movements as her walls contracted around him. Having her so compliant, so soft beneath him was a too big temptation not to come too soon. He couldn't remember the last time he had had sex with a woman, but it was undoubtedly before the Dark Lord had risen again, which meant it was over two years ago. Since then, he had barely had time to use his hand to quiet his physical urges every now and then. He knew that it would take him a while before he could get used to having the woman he loved in his bed but at the same time, he didn't want her first times to be... so brief and unsatisfying. She was not really helping him in that purpose as she tried in every way possible to move under him, squeezing her walls around him tightly when she didn't succeed in her goal.

Grunting at the massive effort he had to make not to simply pump into her until he was finished, he took her hand in his before moving it between them.

"Touch yourself, Hermione." He whispered gently in her ear, trying to move his hips tentatively against her.

He could feel her hand moving between them as he resumed his slow pacing, not daring to look down to where they were linked in case the view of Hermione touching herself as he was inside her could be the final straw.

As soon as she found the perfect match, she wrapped her legs around him, coaxing him to move closer and he couldn't help but comply to her request. As his strokes became faster and deeper, she clutched him so tightly that it almost hurt.

"I'm there! I'm..." She panted against his ear, moving her hips in tandem with his and the little crumb of control he had left was lost as her walls squeezed him tighter: letting out a groan, he grabbed her hips almost painfully as he drove into her harder than he had before as he felt her walls clench around him as she came with him.

Breathing hard against her chest, he felt her hand reach for his hair to caress him. It was... new, soothing, comfortable, welcome.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked as his eyes stayed close and his body was utterly limp over hers.

"No, quite the contrary." She joked, and he let out a chuckle of relief.

"I am too heavy, I should move." He babbled already half asleep.

"No, don't move, I like it." She replied hastily, moving her hands on his shoulders to keep there. He was too tired to contradict her, so he decided to stay there a few more minutes before moving away, but before he could even finish that thought in his head, he was already asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: More M stuff, folks, be warned!**

 **Thank you all so much for your reviews, I love them!**

 **A huge thank you to my Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

Hermione woke up once again at five in the morning, and she really hoped not to make a habit of it. Not that she minded sleeping with Severus and if for doing so she had to go to sleep at seven in the afternoon and wake up at dawn, she wouldn't hesitate to do it every single day.

Severus was still half-sprawled over her, his head on her breasts and his arm on her belly. She couldn't help the tender smile that blossomed on her lips: he looked so young, so vulnerable and... sweet. Merlin, if he ever heard she had put that word together with his name in a phrase, he would kill her.

She reached her hand out to touch his hair. Surprisingly, it was not that greasy, but it was almost... soft. It was not like she could judge him for having a bit of oily hair: she knew what it was like to work day and night over a cauldron, especially in that last week. She couldn't remember how many showers she'd had to take before her hair resumed a semblance of its typical wildness.

She wanted to touch him, but she was afraid he would wake up. She had noticed how he was always careful not to let her get too intimate with his body, he always seemed self-conscious and ashamed, and every time she was about to peruse his body more thoroughly, he would stop her and distract her in every way possible.

Biting her lips dubiously, in the end, she gave in as her hand slipped down from his nape to his shoulders. He was warm, really warm, she almost didn't need any duvets as the heat of his body warmed her. It was surprising. She had always expected him to be colder, with all those robes and living in the dungeons, she had never thought he would instead be the warmest human being she had ever touched. Well, it undoubtedly was a bonus for her since they lived in Scotland.

She could feel the rawness of some scars as her hands trailed down between his shoulder blades. She had seen the way the first time he had undressed in front of her: he had been afraid of her rejection, and she couldn't even start to think how stupid that thought was. She loved him, wholly, with his scars, his thinness, with his hooked nose and greasy but also soft hair. They were all things that made him-him, and therefore she loved them, too.

She was about to explore more of his back when she felt his body go rigid over hers. She stilled, her fingers grazing gently his back and some silent seconds had gone by before she heard him breathe again.

He didn't move off her, but she could feel that his body was not entirely relaxed. "What are you doing?" He asked almost suspicious, his voice lower than usual.

"Touching you." She replied carefully but at the same resuming her caresses.

"Why?" He asked after a while as if he had thought about her answer but couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Because I like it. Do you like to touch me?" She asked in return.

He lifted himself up on his forearms until his face was leveled with hers. "Of course I do." He replied as if she were an obtuse student who had asked the most obvious thing.

"Then as well I like to touch you." She replied, finishing her odd syllogism.

He seemed appeased by her answer as he relaxed beside her again. Satisfied with his reaction, she shifted until she was resting on her side, one hand supporting her as the other was free to touch Severus as she liked. In the dim light of the room, she could see that his eyes had closed again as her hand moved up and down on his side and she was almost tempted to push the duvets out of the way so that she could also see him. She was afraid, though, that the relaxed atmosphere she had gotten so far would crumble if he felt too exposed.

In the end, she decided that she was content enough to just let her hand wander over his warm skin in the darkness. As soon as she couldn't refrain from feeling his buttocks - a mischievous smile on her lips - his eyes snapped open to observe her. She had to severely fight the laugh that wanted to come out as she looked at his confused scowl that reminded her so much of her Potions Professor.

"What are you doing?" He asked again.

"I think I already told you that." She replied with an amused arched eyebrow as she couldn't help but squeeze his buttock's cheeks a bit just to see his reaction.

His eyes widened, but she couldn't tell whether it was in pleasure or in surprise. Nevertheless, she let her hand move on the front, grazing his slim hips and his flat abdomen. Biting her lower lip in self-consciousness, she let her hand travel down, relieved in his hitched breath as her hand grabbed his already hard manhood.

Fixing her eyes on his, she tried to decipher his reaction but his eyes were closed, and the only sign that he was not asleep was the deep breaths he took as her hand explored him.

Hoping she was not making a mistake, she let him go for one second to move the duvets down. His eyes opened, but he didn't say anything as she grabbed him in her hand again.

The soft drops glistening his head made the movements of her hand easier as she pumped him up and down in what was actually an uncomfortable position. Letting him go once again and smiling as he let out a groan of disappointment, she lightly pushed on the chest to prompt him to move on his back.

Severus understood the meaning of her gesture and did as he was told, resting on his back as his eyes followed her every single movement. Taking a deep breath, she shifted until her body was flush against his side.

It didn't matter how much she tried to go slow, as soon as her skin was touching his, she couldn't restrain the urge to stroke her body against his to create some kind of friction that would relieve some of her need too. Her mouth descended of its own volition on his chest, kissing every inch of skin she could reach.

He started to wake up more fully as he moved his hands to touch her as well but with a grunt of frustration, she stopped him, putting his hands back by his side.

Severus looked at her confused as he tried to move on his forearms to question her but he didn't have the chance as she decided to move on his lap, quieting all the questions that he might have had with a bruising kiss. Descending lower, she made her prerogative to touch, kiss, taste, every inch of flesh she met.

When her lips reached his lower abdomen, and she could feel his dripping erection between her breasts, she risked a glance up to check on Severus' reaction. It finally seemed as if he had caught on what she was doing and he was merely looking at her with some curiosity as he lay on his forearms.

Hermione resumed her activity, kissing the trail of dark hair that brought her mouth right where she wanted. Grabbing his attentive manhood in one hand, she lowered her head until her tongue finally met the little drops that glistened on its head.

He tasted precisely as how he smelled, and she actually discovered that she didn't mind it. Instead – truth be told – she liked it. Engulfing its head in her mouth, she imitated the same movements she did with her hand, pumping up and down slowly to find the perfect rhythm. Even though he seemed to like it, if the light bucking of his hips were any indications of it, she darted a look at his face. His eyes, black as pitch, were glued to her mouth while his lips were slightly parted as he breathed hard. He was beautiful, at that moment, he was simply beautiful as he was utterly lost in the sensations that she was creating.

She was unable to stifle a moan at that sight as she was aroused more than she had ever been and it seemed to have a particular effect on him as he let out a loud groan of his own, reaching her face with shaking hands, trying to move her away.

She let out a grunt of protest, which seemed to give him another pleasurable sensation as he squeezed his eyes close.

"Hermione, I am about to come, you should... oh please, you should..." But she didn't listen to him. Instead, she treasured the information as she moved faster over him, taking him as deeper as she could, and she didn't have to wait much before she had a full taste of his seed.

She licked him clean, taking every drop that she had missed as he started to soften in her hand. Even though having him in her mouth had been one of the most powerful sensations she had ever felt, she couldn't help a slight blush that appeared on her cheeks as she raised her head up to look at him. He had a soft half-smile on his face as he looked down at her thorough clean-up.

"I am so sorry, I told you I was about to..." His smile disappeared as his eyes averted away from hers, embarrassed.

"I wanted to do it, no need to apologize and before you say something stupid, I liked it." Hermione smiled at him reassuringly as she moved up to lay beside him.

"What time is it?" He asked out of the blue.

But before she could answer, he had already summoned a clock. It was 6:30 and she really didn't want to think about all the things she should do as soon as she got up from the bed. But before she could really dwell on it too much, Severus' lips crashed on hers, making her forget every rational thought she had, reminding her of the still throbbing sensation between her legs.

"Then I believe we still half an hour before getting up and I have no intention to let you get out of here... unsatisfied." He murmured low in her ear and all her cognitive capacities melted away.

* * *

It was 8 in the morning when Hermione was finally able to leave Severus' room with a silly smile on her lips. Taking a deep breath, she approached the Great Hall, trying to suppress the need to giggle like a stupid girl in love. It didn't take much to contain her enthusiasm: as soon as she remembered what had to happen that same afternoon, every trace of happiness was swept off her face.

When she reached her friends at their usual seats, they had already finished half of their breakfast.

Trying not to look too guilty, she sat as if nothing of the ordinary had happened.

"'Mione! Where were you?" Asked Ron, his mouth still half-full with some scrambled eggs.

Grimacing in disgust, Hermione served herself before answering. "Good morning to you, too, Ron. McGonagall's project took everything out of me, and I really needed a half an hour more of sleep. Today I should be back at lessons." That was another discussion that had Hermione waste some precious time that morning with Severus. She had wanted to stay with him as long as possible, or at least to stay in his rooms to go over their plan as much as possible, but he had objected sternly. He has stated that he would not be able to "look after" her – as if she needed to be babysat like a child – since he had to talk to Draco as soon as possible.

She had argued her point until he told her that he wouldn't know whether someone else may join him in his quarters and it would be too dangerous if some Death-Eaters caught her in his rooms. In the end, she had subsided and had decided that after all, it was not an unwise decision.

Nevertheless, she had made her point that she would meet him one last time soon after lunch. After a growl that thundered deep in his chest, trying to scare her away – an attempt that failed miserably – he had nodded reluctantly.

"Finally, I would add! We missed you!" Ron replied with a smile, but she didn't return his enthusiasm.

"So, any news about You-Know-Who?" She asked them both as she couldn't help a furtive glance at the High Table in search of Snape.

"Nothing official but I can feel that something is off. Can't you?" Harry asked with a frown of confusion between his brows.

"Yes, everything is... gloomier." She replied truthfully. Besides what she actually knew, everything had turned darker at Hogwarts in the past week or so, as if even the walls of the castle could perceive that something was about to happen.

Harry hummed his assent as he resumed his breakfast pensively. She took the opportunity to give the High Table a better look. The Headmaster seemed as peaceful as always, and she couldn't help but wonder how he was able to do it. Did he trust her and Severus' plan so much that he was not scared in the least that something could go wrong? Well, she envied his faith if that was the case though Hermione would put money on him being a far better actor.

"Also Dumbledore has... intensified our lessons. I believe he knows that something is going to happen soon and I just can feel it: Voldemort is happy about something, and when it happens, it means nothing good." Harry added absentmindedly as he looked an innocuous spot on the wall with barely kept rage.

"Whatever happens, we are ready for it." She tried to support him, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Yes, mate, we are in this together: whatever happens, we will face it." Added Ron, imitating her smile.

She sighed: it was going to be a really long day for which she didn't feel ready at all.

* * *

Hermione let out a sigh of relief when finally all her classes were over for the day. As she was descending the stairs for reaching the Great Hall, though, she couldn't help the nostalgic smile that grew on her lips. She knew that after that day she may not be back to Hogwarts for months, maybe years, or perhaps never at all.

She had faced some of the most challenging moments of her life in this castle, but she had loved it anyway. It was the place where she had found Harry and Ron, where she had met brilliant teachers like Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, even Hagrid; and yes, where she had found Severus, too. And now, after six years, when she finally had some of her most amazing moments there in that place, she had to go away. Yes, she realized, life could have a strange sense of irony: when she finally felt like she belonged to the place, she had to leave it. It was unfair, but maybe, perhaps, it was also right.

She sat at her usual place, her friends were chattering about some silly things, completely unaware of what was going to happen in a few hours. Feeling alone as never before, she glanced up at the High Table, looking for Severus.

His hand was in mid-air as he held a fork when their gazes locked and all the rest seemed to disappear: the cacophony of the Great Hall at lunch, the smell of warm food, the cold air of December that penetrated through the windows. Everything was gone as their eyes met and all her sense of solitude melted away. He knew what was going to happen and just that made her feel less scared of what she had to face in a few hours.

"'Mione? We will see you back in the Common Room? We would like to find a way to convince Dumbledore to let us go to Hogsmeade next week. You know, for Christmas shopping? So, are you in?" Asked Ron as she nodded absently, returning his tentative smile.

Her friends all stood up together and walked down to the doors, as she stayed in her seat, finishing her now cold meal. She exchanged a meaningful nod with Severus before he stood up and exited the Great Hall. She ate the last of her potatoes in a hurry before standing up herself and reaching the alcove that hid the door to his quarters.

* * *

She entered automatically, whispering the password Severus had given to her weeks ago. As soon as she closed the door behind her pensively, she looked up to be faced by a weary Severus and a surprised Draco.

Hermione gulped, wondering whether she had been mistaken. She was sure Severus had nodded in her direction to inform her that it would be safe for her to reach him in his quarters but apparently, she had been wrong, or – as she looked for any sign of clarification on Severus' face – Draco's visit was a surprise for them both.

"Granger?" Draco let out, surprised as if he had just seen a ghost and she actually couldn't blame him since she looked at him in the exact same way.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she looked at her Severus with gouged out eyes, waiting for him to reply in her place.

"I thought it would be for the best if Draco were also informed about our plan." He explained to her with a nod, but his words made her feel more lightheaded than before.

"What?" Was all she was able to mutter out, completely shocked.

Severus looked back at Draco for one moment before taking a few steps towards her, trying to create some sense of privacy between them. "He wants to switch sides, Hermione, he doesn't want to be a Death-Eater." He drawled calmly as if he were trying to quiet her in some way.

"Yes, but he has the Mark, and he is already too much into it, we can't risk the plan. The Headmaster has been clear about this, we are supposed to be the only ones to know about the plan, and for how much I agree with you that sometimes Dumbledore doesn't come up with the best ideas, I believe this is not the case." She shook her head in disapproval, looking at Draco over Severus' shoulder, trying to decipher his expressions but he looked scared, surprised... strangely innocuous.

Hermione knew she couldn't be a great judge about Draco's character, not after the history they had shared for six years, and the opinion she had about the Slytherin was not exactly flattering. Even though she deemed Severus a much better judge than her and even though she believed Draco was genuinely conflicted about the situation – especially after she had seen him cry on Severus' shoulders mere days before – she didn't think it was a wise idea to include him in the plan when many things could go wrong. Even though he may truly not want to kill Dumbledore and follow his father's path, he may be too weak to bear the pressure that that situation would inevitably cause.

He would have to be a double agent, exactly as Severus and for how much her opinion about Draco may change in better – with time – she still didn't deem him capable of enduring a stressful situation like that.

"He can change, Hermione, he just needs the chance to do it." Hermione kept looking between the two Slytherins while she was facing an internal battle. Severus had never wanted for her to be part of the plan: a Gryffindor, a Muggle-Born, who had fought for his same cause for years and still it took him months before he deemed her trustworthy. It was unbelievable for her why all of a sudden Severus seemed to trust Draco enough to involve him in a delicate situation as that. Nevertheless, if she had learned something in the last three months was that Severus never did anything without reason.

Moving her gaze back to his expecting eyes, as if he were actually waiting for her approval – a gesture that she found she appreciated more than she ever thought she would – she nodded her assent and almost imperceptibly, he let out a soft sigh of relief.

"How much did you tell him already?" She asked then, looking back at a still confused Draco who was watching their exchange curiously.

He looked back at Draco for one moment before he cast a silent Muffliato. "I didn't tell him everything, and I have no intention to do so until... we face this afternoon. I told him that I don't believe in the Dark Lord's politics and beliefs and that I found myself... entrapped in his inner circle just like him but that on the contrary, I am collaborating for his fall. I was about to update him about your collaboration when, right on time, you came in." He gave her an amused half-smile, which she returned gladly.

"So what now? Are you going to tell him about this afternoon's plan or at least part of it?" Severus nodded as she saw Draco move towards them hesitantly.

"Part of it." Was Severus' last reply before he undid his spell and turned back towards Draco as if he had sensed his proximity.

"Draco, as you may see, Miss Granger is on our side as well," Severus explained with his usual indifference as if her presence there was foregone.

Draco looked back and forward between them, a clear bewildered expression on his face as in the end he decided to merely nod at that abnormal news.

"Who else is on our side?" Draco asked innocently as soon as he found back his capacity to speak.

Severus stiffened in front of her in obvious discomfort as he tried to find a proper answer to that tricky question.

"You may not like it, but you can trust most of the Gryffindors. Keep in mind that what we discuss here cannot get out of here. We are not alone in this, Draco, of that I can assure you, but I would prefer not to disclose too much when you have to meet the Dark Lord quite a lot in the future. Rest assured that we are all working for the fall of the Dark Lord." Draco seemed relieved at those words as he kept nodding his approval.

He looked pale, emaciated, haunted, a really different Draco than Hermione was used to seeing. Nevertheless, as she studied all his expressions carefully, he seemed sincere in his reactions. He really was not happy to have to follow his father's path.

Taking a few steps towards Severus, she realized how silly her previous statement had been about Draco bearing the Mark. Severus bore the Mark, too and it was taking him all his life to have the chance to atone himself for that juvenile mistake. As she looked between the two Slytherins, she realized they could be easily compared to each other, with the only difference that she and Severus could both prevent Draco twenty years of hellish life.

"Will... will I have to really kill Dumbledore in an hour?" Draco swallowed loudly in the silence of the room as all the physical improvements he had gained that few minutes in Severus' quarters melted away, making him look much older than he was, which didn't help her to erase the comparison she had made between the two Slytherins from her mind.

Severus shook his head with force before speaking. "No, you won't have to. I will be the one to curse the Headmaster." Severus replied calmly as if that situation hadn't touched him in the least.

She knew it was a mere facade, she had seen Severus the previous day, and all his detached composure had disappeared in front of her. She wanted to reach out with a hand to touch his shoulder in solace, but she stood still a few inches behind his back.

"But it is not fair, Severus! You can't kill Dumbledore for me, I can't ask that of you... I will do it if I have to, I will." Draco replied vehemently as a few streaks of sweat run down his forehead.

"Nobody said that the Headmaster will die tonight, Draco." Severus drawled in his usual monotone voice, but she could detect a touch of irony in it as she could well imagine a half smirk forming on his lips.

Draco looked at Severus confused for a couple of minutes, his lips parted to say something, but in the end, he shut them and only nodded.

"Then what do I have to do?" he said finally.

"What we have already discussed: take the others on the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore and I will be waiting. Pretend you want to cast the curse and then I will take over. As soon as the Headmaster is down, follow the others. You will have to fake being a Death-Eater for a while, Draco, that can't be avoided, but if I need your help, I will let you know. Remember to use your Occlumency shells when you are near the Dark Lord or all the other Death-Eaters, we can never be safe enough." Severus continued, summoning a clock to check the time. There was no need. She could see the sky starting to darken outside the windows, and it was a matter of minutes before they had to part to be each on their way.

"It is time. We all know what we have to do." They all nodded one last time before they all reached for their cloaks.

Hesitantly, trying to ignore the weary and curious gaze of Draco that followed her, she reached Severus' side, touching his shoulder softly to call his attention. If those were going to be the last minutes she would spend with him before what could be days, she didn't want to go away without a few last words.

"Granger?" Severus turned around towards her detached, his expression professional and cold as always but she didn't let it desist her from her purpose.

"I just wanted to tell you that... what were your words? Oh, yes: if you die, I will find a way to resurrect you and kill you myself." She said with a half bitter-sweet smile.

He blinked a few times, almost shocked to hear those words before he let out a loud enough laugh to call Draco's attention back.

"Duly noted." He replied with an amused raised eyebrow.

He looked back at Draco for one moment, making the younger Slythering turn around hastily, before sighing in defeat and erasing those few inches that kept them apart. His expression seemed to soften right away, his eyes gleaming with a mix of tenderness and care before his hand reached out to touch hers so fast that she could as well have imagined it.

Before he could completely move away, though, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it softly. "I... love you. Please, be careful." She whispered in the end, happy she had found the courage to say those words, just in case.

His eyes shut close almost in pain before his hands grabbed her face as his face lowered to give her a quick bruising kiss that left her thoroughly shaken.

Then he turned around quickly, sending a glare towards Draco who had not so subtly spied on their moment and strode out of his quarters from the little wooden door from where she had entered in half an hour before.

Ignoring Draco's gaped mouth and shocked expression, she took a deep breath: it was time.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I think I should tell you that I won't be able to update until May: my Beta-Reader is going to be away in the next few weeks but do not fret! Chapter 21 is already written even though not beta-ed and I am currently writing chapter 22. So I hope I will be able to resume my weekly updates in the next month, in the meantime I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Always a huge thank you to my Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

Rushing towards the see-through cabinets near the desk, Hermione opened one to take the phials that contained one the Draught of Living Death and the other the Wiggenweld Potion.

Checking her pockets to see if she had everything with her, including the instructions that she had gone through with Severus that same morning, she gave one last glance at a still bewildered Draco.

"Mal... Draco, I believe you should go to the Room of Requirement." She reminded him softly.

The Slytherin blinked his eyes a couple of times before nodding, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth a couple of times as if he had been on the verge of saying something before he simply shook his head, nodded one last time in her direction and strode out of the room in a hurry.

Alright, she thought as she was alone in the room, an amused smile she couldn't refrain anymore on her face, that had been worth it.

Giving one last glance at that room that had hosted her so many times in the last months, she sighed with longing desire as she remembered that she may not be back here for a long time and if she did, things would not be the same anyway. She would miss it, and for a moment she dreaded that she couldn't linger a little while longer.

It was time and she couldn't delay that goodbye any longer. Rushing out of the room she didn't dare look back in case she lost the courage to walk away. She reached Dumbledore's office in a few seconds. Calling out the password the Headmaster had given her, she tried to catch her breath after the long run she had endured as to not waste precious time.

As soon as she was inside, she was surprised to see that Dumbledore was not sitting behind his desk with his typical utter calm that she envied every time; no, he was standing by the windows, his hands linked behind his back as he observed the approaching of the night.

"Good evening, Sir." Hermione panted still out of breath.

Just then, the Headmaster seemed to be aware of her presence as he turned around to look at her almost surprised.

"Good evening, Hermione. You have everything with you?" He asked lightly, almost absent-minded as his gaze concentrated on the gloomy landscape out of the window.

"Yes, Sir, I just need the Cloak." She replied as she tried to spy what was so interesting that had captured the Headmaster's full attention before depositing the little phial of Draught of Living Death on his desk.

"Oh, yes, of course." He said, finally moving away from the window to reach a wood cabinet behind his desk. "Here it is, my dear." He extended the soft almost invisible material towards her with a faint smile, but before she could grab it, his expression turned severe and his eyes were glued to hers as if he were trying to decipher something of the uttermost importance.

"Hermione... Will you stand by Severus whatever happens?" Hermione was surprised by that bizarre question, and it took her a while to give him a proper answer, even though he didn't seem to press her for it as his eyes just stayed fixed on hers.

"I love him." She replied in the end with a solid sureness as her statement seemed to echo on the walls of the room for a while.

He seemed satisfied with her answer as he nodded gladly, handing her the cloak.

"I will see you in a few minutes on the Astronomy Tower, Hermione." He sent her one last gentle smile before returning his gaze to the night out of the window.

She remained there a few minutes before she felt her legs would sustain her long enough to get out of that office. She couldn't tell why she had felt almost compelled to confess those words to no less than Dumbledore himself but in some way she had known that it was precisely the answer he was hoping for. In the end, she couldn't bring herself to care. It was true, she loved him, and it meant that she would not leave him no matter what happened.

* * *

As soon as she was out, she reached the first empty room to put on the Invisible Cloak before rushing through the stairs, checking the progress of the night every now and then through the windows. The sun had completely gone down and it meant she had a few minutes to reach the tower before she was officially late. It would be no good if the Death-Eaters were there before her.

In less than five minutes, she had finally reached the Astronomy Tower. Surprisingly, Severus and the Headmaster were already there. She barely had the strength to refrain from asking the Headmaster how the bloody hell he had reached the tower much faster than her, considering his condition: even though the hand had almost completely cleared, he still looked quite emaciated. It would take him more than a couple of days before he could go back to how he was before that nasty curse. And beside – Hermione thought with some envying suspicion – he was much older than her, it was impossible he had reached the tower so fast without taking a shortcut. Well, he could have spared her that run that had left her without breath instead of wondering uselessly about her feelings for Severus.

They both seemed to perceive her presence, for the Headmaster stopped his light chat with Severus while the Slytherin turned around to check for her presence by the stairs. She wondered if it had been her heavy panting to give her away or if she had the sense of secrecy of an elephant who wants to hide behind a tree.

Even though Severus couldn't see her, their eyes locked for a few seconds before some noises distracted them all. They all turned towards the direction of heavy footsteps. They had arrived. Severus stilled rigidly, waiting anxiously for the presence of his companions to become visible; instead, the Headmaster kept looking down the parapet, utterly oblivious of the sudden glacial atmosphere that Hermione herself could perceive.

One by one, they appeared in front of the two wizards. She could barely see through the grates of the stairs, but it didn't take her much to recognize the slim, undulating figure of Bellatrix Lestrange, a full smile of victory on her lips.

Draco came into view then. He was trembling, his eyes moving quickly from Severus to Dumbledore, back to Bellatrix. His hair had fallen down messily on his face as if it were trying to dry the flows of sweat on his forehead and cheeks. And it was in that moment that Hermione realized that Severus had done the right thing by including him in the plan, too. Whatever Dumbledore may think of that in the future, it was unfair to leave him to his own devices in a messy situation like that. She knew what the Headmaster would think: Draco was expendable, for the greater good. And that was why she loved Severus. He didn't think that even a single person's life was expendable for the greater good, it didn't matter how useless, potentially dangerous that person could be: if he could be saved, then he was not expendable.

Everything happened too quickly and too slowly at the same time. She could hear the shrieking voice of Bellatrix urge Draco to kill Dumbledore and Hermione was surprised that she could even hear the heavy panting of Draco who had pointed the wand at Dumbledore chest. It was then that Severus intervened, as the Headmaster pleaded him. In a moment, she heard Severus' curse, and she could see a green light emanating from his wand. And then silence. Everyone had stopped breathing as the Headmaster fell with a thud that echoed throughout the air. It was done.

And then Bellatrix laughed, almost a laugh of relief as all their wands sent a couple of Morsmordre in the air. Hermione shivered involuntarily as the big skulls of smoke covered all the sky over Hogwarts.

She didn't know how much time her gaze had been fixed on those smoke signals, but when she finally recovered from her brief trance, all the Death-Eaters were noisily descending the stairs to reach the Great Hall.

When Severus' billowing cloak disappeared from her view, she finally shook her head and focused. It was her moment. Quickly, she reached the Headmaster, checking for his pulse but she couldn't hear it. He was... he looked dead, really dead and she wondered how much time it would take them to know if Severus' spell had in fact not worked as he had imagined.

Shaking her head as to banish those stupid thoughts away, she grabbed the Headmaster's bony and heavy hand before activating the portkey she had treasured in her pocket and in a swirl, they were gone.

* * *

More than five minutes had gone by when finally her head stopped turning. She blinked a few times to focus her eyes on her surroundings: it looked like a small wooden cottage, and they seemed to have happened in some kind of a cold living room. Before she could get lost in her curiosity, though, Hermione gave her attention back to the Headmaster's sprawled body on the floor. He was still so... dead. Shivering at the thought that all they have done may have been for nothing, she shook herself out of her reverie and with trembling hands, she grabbed the little phial she still had in her pocket. She knelt by Dumbledore's side, clutching his jaws with a hesitant hand. She carefully opened his mouth before pouring the liquid of the phial, massaging his neck to facilitate the swallowing.

Nothing happened: not a cough, not a twitching, not a spasm. Nevertheless, she didn't give up hope as she stood still by his side, not even daring to blink her eyes, afraid that she may miss the tiniest of movements.

Hermione didn't know how much time her eyes remained fixed on the Headmaster's face, but it may as well have been more than an hour when finally Dumbledore's started to open his eyes and finally, she let out a breath of relief.

Her vision blackened for a moment, all her tension finally getting out of her body through a heavy shaking that left her weak, but as soon as the Headmaster's eyes opened fully, she believed she could face Voldemort herself and win.

"Sir?" She asked hesitantly, giving him a bit of room.

Dumbledore looked at her as if it were the first time he saw her and Hermione was afraid that something may have gone wrong. When a few minutes passed and still the Headmaster had not given an answer, looking around himself in complete disbelief, she felt her heart thud loudly in her chest.

"Sir? Can you hear me?" She repeated, more loudly this time.

He blinked a few times, focusing his gaze on her face, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to recognize her.

"Hermione?" He said in the end, and she let out another long sigh of relief.

She nodded energetically, trying to will her tears away that impeded her to see him well.

"Yes, Sir, it is me. How are you feeling?" She fidgeted with her fingers, unsure of what to do.

"Disoriented." He spoke after a while as his gaze tried to focus on the unknown surroundings. "Did the deed succeed?" He asked in the end, directing his eyes back to hers.

"I believe so, until now it worked, and I doubt there may have been other complications." She tried to sound as sure as she could, but in her heart, she was worried sick: until she saw Severus with her own eyes, she couldn't settle. She knew the most difficult part of the plan had succeeded, but she also knew that sometimes what looked easy was in fact what in the end failed. Hermione had always wondered how that worked, what mechanism was behind that bizarre logic. How many times it happened to her, too? In little, of course. When for example she had to prepare two different exams and the one that had looked impossible to succeed was the one that in the end went well, and the one that was supposed to be easy didn't have the exact outcome she had hoped for. She had thought about those odd circumstances many times, and the only satisfactory answer she had been able to come up with was that maybe, perhaps, people put more effort into difficult things believing they could never succeed, and less effort in things they took for granted that they would reach.

Shaking her head, she tried to get back to the situation at hand: it was not the time for silly and inane philosophical monologues.

He nodded vigorously before touching his head. "My head hurts so badly." He confessed in a rare moment of weakness. Surprised by that admission, she remained still for a couple of minutes.

"I am sorry, Sir, I don't have any potions with me." Why had not she thought about that before? Getting up hastily, she gave a better look at her surroundings: in front of her, a few closed windows sided a little wooden door that she guessed was the main entrance to the cottage. A few feet from it, two discarded and worn sofas faced each other, and she and the Headmaster were sitting on a discolored carpet between the two. Behind her, there was an old chimney with a couple of rods of firewood. Extracting her wand from her pocket, she soon turned the fire on, relieving in the little-added warmness. On the right of the fireplace, there was a little kitchen made of an old black fridge and a small rusty stove, with a couple of cupboards over them. Right in front of them, there was a roundtable with two ruined chairs. It wasn't exactly... comfortable, but she couldn't deny that it had a certain... coziness to it. On her right, she noticed that there were old stairs, which she imagined led to the bedrooms. She believed it was the right place where no one would ever look for someone like Dumbledore.

She couldn't help but let her curiosity out as she checked the fridge and the cupboards. She was utterly surprised when they were both full of food and potions. Severus had been much more forward-thinking than her, apparently. For a moment, for just a tiny moment, she envied him for that mind lucidity that she had lost as soon as she had been able to kiss him.

Checking the different bottles, she was also able to find a pain relieving potion. "Sir?" Hermione called, turning around to check on Albus but apparently he had had enough strength to get on the sofa and fall asleep there. Putting back the potion, she decided to visit the upstairs before mustering the courage to venture out.

Yes, she had been right, after the stairs, there were two bedrooms and a bathroom. Finally, one of the windows was uncovered, and she was able to give a peek outside, but all she could see was mountains and mountains of snow as a strong wind kept sending other snow from the sky. Well, now she understood why the windows were covered on the ground-floor. She would never be able to get out with that weather, but at the same time, nobody would be able to get inside.

Trying to get her eyes to focus beyond the vast amount of snow, she discovered that it also looked like an isolated place. Were they even near any city? Were they even in Scotland?

Walking downstairs, she decided to cook something as her stomach started complaining. Even though she was not a great cook, not for her lack of will but because at Hogwarts it made no sense to cook, she grabbed two eggs, a frying pan, and started preparing some scrabbled eggs: she had to do something if she didn't want to go crazy. Severus had warned her that he would probably be back the next day with Professor McGonagall or maybe even longer than that, but she couldn't help feeling agitated nonetheless. Being stuck in an unknown place with a sleeping Headmaster while hell was breaking loose at Hogwarts was not exactly her idea of a nice weekend out. Had Ron and Harry already noticed her absence? Would they call her on it as soon as she was back? And what then? They had to go out looking for Horcruxes, leaving Hogwarts and all that was familiar to them.

It was absurd! They had faced a lot of dangers and stressful situations, but moving from a place to another without a precise destination was something they were not used to after having lived for six years at Hogwarts, in a castle, relatively safe and looked after. The Dark Lord – damn! She had even started calling Voldemort like a Death-Eater! - would set free his worst subjects to get them. Yes, they would have Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Severus on their side but it was still something over their abilities and out of their comfort zone.

Severus. Just thinking about his name made her calm down. She missed him already, and she didn't want to think about how things could only get worse when they were obliged to stay apart from each other for days, weeks maybe, perhaps even months. A cold shiver ran down her spine at the mere thought. She needed him, she couldn't... no, she would... they would find a solution, they would meet every couple of days even if the risk of being discovered were high. She just couldn't survive without knowing that he was okay, she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the task at hand. No, that was it: they would meet every now and then and if he refused... no, he couldn't resist!

She turned down the stove, and put her eggs on a chipped plate she had found in the cupboard over the fridge. She sat down at the round table, listening to the light snoring of the Headmaster as he slept soundly and she soon got back to her own thoughts. Was Severus celebrating in that right moment? Was he being rewarded for his deed? No, she would not think about what reward the Dark... Voldemort could ever give to Severus. No, she would not think about it. But her mind didn't seem to want to collaborate: images of tortures, homicides... orgies started to form in her mind, and she looked at her eggs in distaste. Damn, now she had even lost her appetite.

Giving a few bites to her food to make the burn in her stomach go away, she then tidied the table. She went to sit on the opposite couch from the one on which the Headmaster was resting and decided to look over him, at least she would feel useful, more or less.

What time could it be? She started musing; 8 pm, 9? She really couldn't tell without a window, nor it would make a difference if she went upstairs to check outside one of the windows. The sky had been so full of clouds and snow when she had looked through the window of one of the bedrooms before that it could have been morning as well as night.

She could tell it was quite late anyway merely by her need to sleep. That morning she had woken up too early, and now she felt exhausted. Trying to keep her eyes open, she fixed her gaze on the steady breath of the Headmaster as his chest moved up and down, but instead of keeping her awake, it lulled her to sleep as she let her head lay on the headrest.

* * *

Hermione woke up sometime later. Her eyes were still closed and her mind still fogged when still in her sleep, but she heard someone talking. Trying to decide whether to bother to wake up fully or just take a few more minutes of needed rest, her eyes shot open as soon as she distinguished Severus' voice in her daze. Yes, she couldn't have mistaken that voice in a thousand years.

She moved too hastily as her neck made a strange and painful cracking sound. She realized that having fallen asleep on the ruined sofa had not been a great idea as she felt all her limbs go stiff. The voices had stopped talking, and she wondered if it was because they too had heard the noisy stretching of her neck. She blinked a few times to get the fog out of her eyes and soon she was met with three pairs of eyes fixed on her. She so hoped she didn't have drool on her face or scary hair, but she knew it was a vain hope.

"Severus?" She called out softly as she tried to get up in one piece. He looked at her sternly before addressing her coldly. "Miss Granger?" She looked at him hurt, even though she soon realized she had spoken to him with too familiarity in front of strangers. At least she had not kissed him in front of Draco, she couldn't help to think with some amusement.

"Did everything go well?" She asked trying to sound as serious as possible while attempting to comb her hair with her hands nonchalantly.

"Yes, everything went as planned: the Headmaster is alive, the Dark Lord doesn't suspect anything, I am alive, so are you and McGonagall." He seemed to speak those last words with a sigh of relief, but she could have imagined it.

"What time is it? I couldn't go outside, and I couldn't tell from the sky." She took a deep breath of relief herself: they were all fine, Severus was fine. Merlin, she felt like she could faint any moment!

"It's 8 in the morning." Answered Severus. Hermione gave a better look at him, as well as at McGonagall and Dumbledore. Something was off.

"What's the matter?" She sighed, knowing everything couldn't go well for too long.

"Nothing is the matter. We were just talking about what is to be done next: Harry is aware of what his next step is, as you well are. We were just thinking about a way to keep in touch. Severus had informed us that Tom has confirmed his next promotion as Headmaster and Minerva will be his Deputy Headmistress. I will be stuck here for the foreseeable future, but it won't mean I won't try to help. Do you know this place well enough to Apparate here every couple of nights for a few minutes?" The Headmaster spoke softly as he had gone back to his own self. She felt relieved of that old change.

"Yes, of course." She replied, looking around again to memorize her surroundings but she was interrupted by Severus' sneer.

"You can't help but sugarcoat everything every time, can you?" Severus snarled as his cloak swirled around him as he made to move somewhere but soon realizing that the space was too little to permit him his usual theatrics.

Hermione stood still, moving her gaze from Severus' frown, McGonagall preoccupied expression and Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. "What does that mean?" She asked when it seemed nobody was going to clarify Severus' statement.

"It appears-" The Headmaster started, without refraining a mild glare towards Severus. "-that Tom's next move is to isolate Harry as soon as possible." She looked at Dumbledore with a confused frown: that was not exactly news.

"Well, we knew that, didn't we?" She asked all of a sudden doubtful.

"It amazes me how Miss Granger is always so perceptive." Severus mocked her avoiding her gaze as she barely could refrain herself from glaring at him openly.

"Care to clarify that, Professor?" But she failed as she retorted with his same tone of annoyance.

"What does, in your genial opinion, that mean? The Dark Lord wants to get rid of you and of your other Gryffindor dunderhead as soon as possible." Hermione opened her mouth to reply something and then closed it, then opened it again: she was confused.

"It was... predictable." She carefully answered in the end, they had always known that their lives would be in danger as soon as that plan succeeded.

"How could I have forgotten that you have no sense of self-preservation?" He snorted with a superior frown.

"Severus, I believe that for today we all have had enough of your sarcasm. As Hermione said, we have always known that it was likely to happen, that's why we will have to keep in touch to avoid possible complications. With your news from the inside, we can warn Hermione and the others of every possible danger. There is nothing to worry about. Now, I believe it is time for you and Hermione to get back to Hogwarts. Hermione, as soon as you get back, talk to Harry and organize on how to proceed next. Of course, do not overstay at Hogwarts, leave as soon as you can and I would suggest staying at the Burrow for a while, maybe? In the meantime, you can organize your future trips." She nodded and returned the Headmaster's smile before reaching Snape's side near the door.

She looked at him expectantly, wondering if they were going to Disapparate separately or not. He was still entirely concentrated on glaring at Dumbledore when all of a sudden, he gripped her arm almost painfully and in a swirl they were gone. She sighed, it was not exactly the happy rejoining she had hoped for.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hi, guys! I am back! I am sorry if I have not replied to your reviews yet but since it has been a while since I posted the last chapter, I thought that you would prefer to go on with story rather than receiving a reply to your review. Nevertheless, I shall reply to all your reviews tomorrow. Thank you so much for your support! I love each and one of your reviews!**

 **A huge thank you to my Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

It took Hermione a couple of seconds to find her balance again as she found herself on the soft snow more than twenty feet away from Hogwarts' gates. As soon as her head stopped turning, she searched Severus with her eyes. He was right beside her, looking skeptically towards Hogwarts.

"Severus?" She asked hesitantly, taking a few steps towards him, still a bit unbalanced.

"You should go inside, Potter and Weasley will be worried." He answered coldly, with his back still turned to her.

She sighed, wondering what the matter was this time. "So everything went as planned?" She tried to break the ice that had formed between them already back at the cottage.

"Exactly as planned." He replied with a sneer that she could distinctly hear in his voice, even though she still couldn't see his face.

"Then what's the matter?" Asked Hermione exasperated, exhausted from the few last hours.

"Apparently nothing: you will only risk your life day in and day out, which – you are right – is something that happens so often that we really should not give a second thought about it." He snapped, finally turning around to look at her with his deep black eyes.

She couldn't help a relieved smile at his perpetual scowl that only deepened in front of her sudden relaxation. He had opened his mouth again, probably to retort some other nasty remark, but she didn't care as she quickly closed the distance between them and hugged him. Less than one day had gone by from the last time she had been able to do this, but still, it felt like thousand years. She really didn't want to go back thinking about how difficult it would be in the next days.

"Are you finished?" She whispered unable to avoid some amusement to transpire from her voice.

"Not quite." He replied harshly as he hugged her tightly, his words coming out confused as he lowered his face to her neck.

They stayed like that a few minutes, and she indulged herself in that missed warmness before moving slightly back to better see his face. She traced his contours with her hands, trying to impress them in her memory as she tried not think about what would happen in a few minutes.

"You have to go." He said in the end even though he didn't look that convinced by his own words as he let her keep touching him.

"I know, I know." She couldn't help but reply, a bit annoyed by that reminder. He smiled, he merely smiled amused by that reaction. Indignant at his response, she kissed him fiercely to wipe away that smile from his face. She let her tongue reach out for his lips, her teeth scraping the soft flesh of his lower lip as she attacked him with no remorse at all. At the beginning surprised, he remained dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before a low groan came out directly from his chest as his hands grabbed her back to crash her to him painfully.

"Go back inside." He almost growled as he put a few inches of distance between them.

Undecided whether to follow his suggestion or tempt him – and her too – a bit longer, she stood there nodding absently as she barely heard his words.

"Hermione, go back inside." He repeated in his most authoritative voice that instead of scaring her, aroused her more.

She smirked as she erased the distance that separated them and ignoring his scowl of fake anger, Hermione kissed him again, this time more gently as she let herself enjoy that precious moment.

"When can I see you again?" She panted as she ignored the snow that had started to fall again.

"In a couple of days, you will have to meet the Headmaster again. I will try to be there but I can't promise anything. Just... be careful and don't come back here unless it is necessary." He grabbed her face and looked intently into her eyes, trying to discern whether or not his words had been listened to. "Promise me." He added, knowing too well how her mind worked.

Regretfully, she nodded before adding a hesitant "Yes, I promise." She squeezed his hand one last time. "Make sure to be there" She breathed, closing her eyes and mustering all the courage to get away from him and inside.

"I will do my best." He replied already detached as he looked as she opened Hogwarts' gates without looking back. She couldn't, she really couldn't look back, or she would never leave him again.

Warmness! That was her first thought as soon as she was inside the castle. She had missed it so badly! She didn't have much time to enjoy it, though, as she ran through the stairs to get to her Common room. The school looked deserted as she had not met even one living soul – nor dead, at that - on her way back to her chambers.

Briefly wondering where everyone had gone, she got her answer as soon as she was inside her Common room. All of her Gryffindor classmates were all there, some ready to leave with heavy luggage, some other still packing quickly as they moved their glance back and forth from their bags to a clock. Others were chatting silently as they buttoned their coats.

She looked around for Harry and Ron, and soon she found them talking conspiratorially near the fireplace.

"Guys?" She asked, and they both turned to look at her surprised before jumping to give her the tightest hug she had ever had.

"Where the bloody hell were you, 'Mione?! We were so damn worried, we have not seen you for two days and Dumbledore is dead, and Death-Eaters were here, and we couldn't find you, and we thought... we all thought that they had taken you. We spoke to McGonagall, but she just didn't say anything, and we were so sure that..." Finally, they had stopped talking and just hugged her as firmly as they could.

"So, where were you?" They asked again, and she really didn't know what to answer.

"I was helping Professor McGonagall, that's all." She replied dismissively, trying to find something to change the subject.

"But we asked her! And she never replied clearly, we thought she didn't know where you were but didn't want us to worry!"

She smiled trying to look reassuringly. "Really, guys, I am fine, she knew exactly where I was. I can't believe what happened in the last few days." She knew that the subject of the last events would have them all distracted from her previous whereabouts. As soon as her words were out, Harry and Ron both were saddened again as they shook their head in disbelief.

"I knew we should have done something. I knew Dumbledore was not really that aware of Snape's intentions. If only I had insisted a little bit more, if only..." But he shook his head more vehemently without finishing his speech.

"It is not your fault, Harry. The Headmaster knew... who Snape was." She ended lamely as she couldn't really tell that the Headmaster had known very well what was going to happen since he had been the one to organize it all.

"I don't think so, Hermione, had he known he wouldn't be dead right now!" He snapped angrily, his nostrils flaring as his green eyes were fixed on hers.

"What I mean to say is that he knew who Snape was, but maybe he had... underestimated him." She didn't really want to offend Severus either, it wouldn't be fair knowing what she knew, and after all, she had never been a good liar. She decided that from then on she would try to avoid to talk about Snape or she would find herself in big troubles.

"Well, I think that's obvious." Harry snapped sarcastically, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind.

"So now what?" She hastily changed the subject.

"McGonagall has told us that we will have early Christmas holidays since the school has no headmaster anymore. Ron and I have decided to go back to the Burrow for the time being and then... I don't know, we will see what happens, I guess. I hope to be back at Hogwarts in the next month, but in the meantime, we can't really just twiddle our thumbs: I will try to find a way to look for the remaining Horcruxes as soon as possible. I have to kill Voldemort, and I have to do it soon, no one else has to die, no one." He chanted in a whisper as his eyes filled with tears. If only he knew, Hermione thought, if only he knew...

"So, are you coming with us?" He asked after a while, a bit uncertain

"Of course!" She replied fast, squeezing his hand in solace.

Hermione went back to her room to prepare her luggage in a hurry. Sighing, she realized how long it would be before she would be back in that castle, if ever. She knew it was the less important thing to worry about in a moment like that, but she really couldn't help to be nostalgic: all her life as she had known it would change from then on and truthfully, she didn't know if she felt ready for it. The Headmaster had deemed her capable of facing those new and enormous responsibilities and even though a part of her felt entirely overwhelmed by that yearned praise, she still felt a mere child in front of situations bigger than her. She couldn't fail. Ah! If only the fact that she couldn't meant that she wouldn't!

"So, two down, four to go, right?" Ron asked as he sat with his legs crossed on his bed in his room at the Burrow. A candle was lit so that they could at least see their faces without alarming the others occupants of the house as they slept in the other rooms.

"Exactly: Tom's diary and Marvolo Gaunt's ring have already been destroyed. We just need to find the other four." Harry whispered as he nodded in Ron's direction.

"Well, I wouldn't really say 'just,'" Ron added skeptically as she sent him a meaningful glare as not to ruin the relative happy moment.

"So... do we have any clue what the next Horcrux may be?" She intervened before Ron could say some other tactless thing.

"Well, actually we do," Harry added uncertain, as he raised his head to look at them both guiltily.

"Then why didn't you tell us before, mate?" She sent Ron another sign to keep his voice low as he practically shouted his disbelief.

"I have not had the time, really!" Said Harry defensively. "It happened just the night before Dumbledore was killed. He told him he might have a clue on the Horcruxes whereabouts and I asked him if I could go with him, help him... I really didn't think he would say yes, but he did. So we Apparated to a remote cave by the sea. It was scary! Dumbledore was scary! To retrieve the locket, he had to drink a potion that made him weak, really weak, and then I was trying to save him but ended up evoking the Inferi. Anyway, long story made short, in the end, we were able to retrieve the locket, the Slytherin's locket, but it was a fake. Inside of it, there was a note signed by a certain R.A.B. That says that he/ she had stolen the real locket to destroy it. Then Dumbledore died and... nothing, that was it." Harry ended extracting the fake locket from his pockets to show them.

"Who is R.A.B?" She asked.

Harry simply shrugged. "I don't know, I have got no idea, do you?" He looked at them questioningly, but they both shook their heads.

"So we have got no clue what to do next." Ron summed everything up with his usual tact.

"We don't even know if this R.A.B. Was successful in destroying the locket or not. I guess the only thing we can do is to wait and see what happens. Right now, I am quite tired, I really can't think about anything else, I just... Dumbledore... I just need some rest." Harry replied confusedly as he turned away from them and lay on the bed. She exchanged a meaningful nod with Ron before getting up and exiting the room as silently as possible.

The situation was not as desperate as it might have looked to Harry and Ron since Dumbledore was not really dead and since she hoped that he at least had a vague idea about who R.A.B. Could be. One more day and then she would be able to ask him, and she would be able to see Severus again, hopefully.

Even though she really felt heart-broken when she had seen Harry so desperate after Dumbledore's death, she knew it would be for the better if he were oblivious to their plan. He was too connected with Voldemort, and the more people knew, the more there would be the risk that Dumbledore's survival was made public. All their efforts would be wasted: Severus would be discovered, and in the best scenario, they would not have a useful spy anymore, and in the worst, they would lose a valuable member of the Order, and she would lose the person she loved. No, it was precisely that fear that forbid her to confess the truth to Harry.

She would wait other 24 hours and would go back to the cottage to inform Dumbledore of the latest developments and then they would try to find a solution together. Something would have to come up sooner or later.

In the meantime, she wondered what the other Horcruxes were. If they found this one – because she really doubted that whoever that R.A.B was had been able to destroy the locket – they still had to find a way to destroy it and then find the other three remaining Horcruxes. Practically, it was not something that could be done in a few weeks. It would take them months before they were able to find and destroy all the Horcruxes, which didn't mean that Voldemort would wait patiently for them to destroy all his soul pieces. He would attack, and she reckoned that it would happen sooner rather than later. Right now, he thought he had the upper hand: Dumbledore was out of the picture, and he was sure that the second strongest wizard was by his side. Long story made short, they were all doomed.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione went back to her and Ginny's room to catch a few hours of needed sleep in a comfortable bed. The younger girl was already fast asleep when she opened the door, and she thought it was exactly the perfect fluke she needed the next night. She couldn't be happier that the Weasleys were all sound sleepers that wouldn't hear even the Second World War bombings.

As soon as her head touched the pillow, she couldn't help a satisfied smile to appear on her lips. She really, really had needed this. She knew the next day she wouldn't be as lucky since she had to wait for them all to fall asleep before getting downstairs and Apparate back to the cottage and she knew perfectly well she wouldn't be back to the Burrow before 1 in the morning. She really didn't mind as long as she could see Severus again, even just for a couple of seconds. Merlin, she missed him already. One day and she missed him already. She had gotten so used to seeing him every day in the past few months that she actually believed that she had developed some kind of addiction to the man, especially after they had kissed and... all the rest – she thought with a malicious smirk. What she wouldn't do for having him right there and then, by her side, on a soft bed, feeling his hot skin touching hers... She squeezed her eyes shut trying to erase those memories that wouldn't let her sleep, and she really didn't have time to satisfy her needs on her own in a moment like that: she needed sleep! She could think about all the rest, including Severus and all his naked body parts, the next day. For now, she just needed to sleep for a while.

Being used to always having something to do, especially in the last months, Hermione was surprised when after one day at the Burrow she was already bored to death. A few days before, she had had plenty to keep her busy: the Potion, the lessons, her relationship with Severus, finding a way to save the Headmaster. Here, she had nothing to do at all, not even dinner as Molly presented her a full dish of roasted sauces and potatoes on the table.

"Here, dear, you should eat more! Yes, I really believe you have lost a few pounds." Affirmed Mrs. Weasley as she established her weight with a well-assessed gaze. If she had to eat everything that Mrs. Weasley put in her plate, it wouldn't take one week before she burst.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." She had already learned not to contradict the older woman when it came to food: when she had tried it that morning when she found a plate full with three scrambled eggs and two toasts in front of her, Molly had not moved her gaze away from her until she saw that the dish was clean.

She briefly wondered how all the Weasleys had such fit bodies when they ate all the time. Well, she thought that playing Quidditch and being over-active did the trick.

"Any news about Hogwarts?" She asked as soon as Mr. Weasley came through the door after a day at the Ministry.

"Well..." He started hesitantly, looking at the all family reunited around the table. At his insecure word, they all turned their gazes towards him.

"It appears that..." He kept the suspense as they were all ready to lynch him.

"Yes?" They all chorused after another two minutes of unbearable pause.

"It appears that Severus Snape will be the next headmaster." Mr. Weasley was finally able to finish his sentence as a grave silence reigned over the room. Nobody even dared to breathe as they all weighted the consequences of that fact, everyone except her: she had known for a few days now that Snape would be the next headmaster and she couldn't help but take a sigh of relief at that confirmation. Severus would try to keep things at bay, as much as he could.

"You must be kidding me." Harry broke the silence as they all turned to look at him, all glad of that diversion.

"I am afraid I am not." Replied Mr. Weasley as he let out a displeased sigh and took a seat next to his wife.

"But... but he killed Dumbledore! How could the Ministry, how could McGonagall have let something like this happen? I may understand that even the Ministry was corrupted by Voldemort but McGonagall, she would never... no, she wouldn't." Harry kept repeating McGonagall name as if by doing so things could actually change. She reached out with a hand to touch him, to comfort him, to give him some solace, because she knew what he felt like at that moment. He felt betrayed, disappointed, and she couldn't blame him, but if only he knew the truth, he would see that they were all by his side. She at least hoped that when everything was over, she would be able to tell him that it was all for pretense, that Dumbledore didn't die, that Severus was actually on their side, that McGonagall had not betrayed them but was supporting them.

"We can never go back to Hogwarts now," Ron added as the silence stretched loud again in the room, but nobody answered, there was nothing to answer anyway.

Dinner was never over too soon as they ate in complete silence, all of them pondering what that new turn meant. It was 8 when she was finally allowed to go back to her room. In silent agreement, she and Ginny reached Harry and Ron's room, not caring if they were heard as they walked down the hallway as if they were zombies.

"I can't believe it, I still can't believe it." Harry kept repeating as the shock was soon swapped with rage.

"We have to keep calm. Yes, we can't go back to Hogwarts now, but at least we will have more time to look for the Horcruxes." She knew it was a tiny and miserable consolation compared to what they thought was happening.

"But Snape? How could the Ministry... no, I have no words. I won't mind if for killing Voldemort I have to kill Snape first." Harry shook his head repeatedly.

"No, that's not the right way to reason, Harry, we have to concentrate on Voldemort now, forget about Snape. He will have what he deserves once everything is over." A big, huge, thank you from all of them. That was the least he deserved.

"How can you... don't you even care? Snape killed Dumbledore, Hermione, how can you not want revenge?" He asked in disbelief as his big green eyes stared at her.

"Of course I care, Harry! But I know that revenge is useless: killing Snape will not bring Dumbledore back, it will just help Voldemort in defeating us. I know it is hard, but we don't have to let all this get to us more than it is necessary." She knew it was easier said than done but finally Harry seemed to calm down... for a while, at least.

It was 9 when she was back to her room, and it was 10 when finally Ginny started snoring slightly. Taking a deep breath, she slipped out of the room and descended the stairs, pondering whether to Apparate inside the house or outside. In the end, she opted to go out, better safe than sorry. After all, it was still early, and there were more than a few chances that somebody could still be awake inside the house and hear the light noise of the Apparation. As soon as she was outside, she tightened her cloak around her freezing form as she tried to concentrate well enough to remember the frugal insides of the cottage. Hoping not to flinch herself in the process and relaxing as soon as she thought that two of the most powerful wizards would be waiting on the other side, she finally Apparated.

It was the first time she Apparated that far and she discovered that the usual sense of bewilderment and light head was heightened when traveling that far. As soon as her head stopped turning, she saw the faces of the Headmaster and Severus staring back at her.

"Good evening, Sir, Professor." She said uncomfortably as she tried to find a way to move their fixing stares away from her.

"I see you have reached the place all in one piece. Severus was quite preoccupied and tempted to come fetch you himself." The Headmaster lightened the mood with his elegant amusement and gleaming eyes.

She briefly moved her gaze from Dumbledore to Severus, just to placate her addiction for a while. She didn't know whether to be offended that he had not believed in her or feel flattered of his attention and it seemed the Headmaster had picked on her internal battle as he hurried to change the subject.

"How is Harry?" He asked sincerely concerned.

"He is... not taking it so well." At first, she had been tempted to lie and tell him that he was moving on as best as he could.

"Yes, I can imagine. I hope he won't feel too betrayed once the truth will come out." Dumbledore replied a little bit hurt as he lowered his head in what looked almost like shame.

"If it will come out," Severus added with his usual mocking drawl.

"I don't know how I could go on without your optimism, Severus." Replied Dumbledore resuming his usual and more comfortable light mood. Even Hermione couldn't help a light giggle to escape her lips, which was met by Severus' cold gaze as she hurried to compose herself.

"Alright, I believe we should get to the depressing part: is there any news?" The Headmaster asked lightly as if he didn't know what "depressing" really meant.

"Quite a few, Sir." She replied as she pondered whether to sit or not as they were all standing.

"Well, does anyone fancy a cup of tea?"


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: I know, I'm sorry, I am incredibly late, the only thing I can say is that I have had a hellish month. I hope that from now on I will be able to update more frequently.**

 **I hope that with this chapter I can make it up to you! It's M, guys, be warned!**

 **A huge thank you to my beta-reader, MWolfe13!**

* * *

They sat on the sofas, Severus with her on the one on the left, and Dumbledore on the one in front of them. She didn't know how she ended up sitting next to Severus, but whether it had been an unconscious decision or a willing choice, she didn't care. As long as the final result was that she could feel his warm thigh pressed against hers.

She held a cup of warm strong tea as they all concentrated on their own thoughts before striking up conversation. She had needed this: Severus' presence, a strong tea between her hands, and being away from Harry and Ron. She had always loved her friends, and for years she had preferred their presence one thousand times more to the one of Snape and Dumbledore's but lying to them every day had rendered that pleasure impossible.

"So, what news do you have, Hermione?" She gave a little sip to her tea before starting, buying time on how to begin the conversation.

She decided to get straight to the point. "Harry has told me about Slytherin's locket, Sir."

"I see." The Headmaster replied with a slight nod.

She raised an eyebrow. "It's actually a fake locket: Harry found a note inside where it is written that a certain R.A.B. stole the real locket with the plan of destroying it. I guess the first step is to find out who R.A.B. might be," She explained as she finished her tea in one single gulp as she became more and more aware of her tiredness.

"Yes, sure. I will have to do some thinking. I may have... a few ideas, but I want to be sure before giving you an answer. Can you easily come back in another few days?" The Headmaster scratched his beard, no longer paying attention as he was lost in deep thoughts.

"Yes, I believe so. The Burrow is quite packed and it is going to get more and more crowded in a couple of days: Bill is coming home with his fiance, Fleur, and so is Charlie. But I think I won't have problems finding a way to get away at night." At least she hoped so.

"Very well. I believe it is quite late for my age. I should head to bed and think about this latest news. Hermione, dear, there is a spare bedroom upstairs, I am sure you and Severus could take a nap before departing in an hour or so?" Hermione coughed embarrassedly, but was surprised to see Severus' actually blushing. As soon as he realized he was being observed, he let his hair fall on his face, covering his expression and his discomfort while she couldn't refrain the amused smirk that moved her lips.

"Thank you, Sir, that's very kind of you." She replied when she realized that she didn't want to refuse as Severus didn't protest either as he concentrated his gaze on the floor as if he had not heard those words at all and feigned an improbable indifference.

"Well, goodnight Hermione, Severus." The Headmaster got up with his still twinkling eyes and made his way upstairs, closing the door soundly to warn them both that they were finally alone.

* * *

She had been waiting for this moment for more than two days and now that it had finally come, that she was finally alone with Severus, she didn't know what to do or say.

At one point, she couldn't tell whether two minutes had gone by or a complete hour, he stood up with a start, making her turn her head towards him as she finally connected her eyes with his.

"How is everything at Hogwarts?" That was the best she had come up with and yes, she was highly disappointed with herself.

"Harsh," He succinctly replied with his sternest look. Two days apart and they behaved like total strangers.

"Severus?" She called him but she couldn't tell why, she just wanted to say his name out loud for she had longed for it. For two days she had wanted to say his name and take in his looks. He turned around to meet her gaze with his raised eyebrow and there he was, exactly as she had imagined him for those two days and as he became familiar, known again, she took the courage to stand up and approach him.

He didn't move away as she took one slow step after another to reach him, but he was embarrassed and stiff as when the Headmaster had made his indecent proposal.

"I missed you," She let out with a whisper as she raised her arms to hug him. There, finally, she felt it: relief.

He hugged her back. She could feel his nostrils flare as he smelled her neck and all was quiet, perfect, right for a minute.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in the end, taking his face in her hands.

He sighed, almost defeated. "I... I feel proved, but I am going to be fine." He replied in the end, his eyes that finally met hers without shame.

She would have liked to say something to reassure him, to comfort him but she knew that whatever she said would sound false, forced, so she simply took his hand in hers and led him upstairs. She hesitated for one moment when she looked at the closed door of the Headmaster's bedroom at the end of the hallway but then - internally shrugging - she turned on the left and entered the spare little bedroom. She closed the doors behind them, feeling self-conscious when she took out her wand and performed a Silencing charm: it was embarrassing enough that the Headmaster knew they were in a bedroom together, there was no need for him also to know what they were saying or, well, doing.

As soon as she put her wand away in her pocket, she felt Severus' hands reach for her hips, feeling his chest right at her back and for a few minutes they simply stayed like that, basking in that moment of relaxation and safeness where all the rest of the world was excluded. She exhaled a long sigh of relief as his familiar smell of herbs overwhelmed her nostrils.

"I hate to be far away from you," She admitted as the different but comforting surroundings made her so shamelessly truthful.

He didn't say anything but slightly tightened his grip on her hips as his lips finally touched her neck. She lay her head back on his chest, her hand reaching out to his hair to bring him closer, and he complied as his lips moved back and forth between her ear and her shoulder.

Merlin, she had missed this! She had missed being wanted, desired, as she melted in his arms.

She let out an uncontrolled moan when his lips closed on her skin and slightly sucked, making her heart skip a beat. She briefly wondered if it would always be this... overwhelming, shattering, or if it was like that just because it was still all so new. Whatever the truth was, she decided she didn't care at the moment as her shaking hands hastened to undo her trousers. She let them fall to her thighs, accompanied by her undergarments and finally his hands decided to touch her bare skin, up and down on her hips.

"Eager, are we?" He chuckled in her ear. She didn't care that he sounded so amused of her loss of control as long as he kept touching her.

Nevertheless, she couldn't help but take a little revenge as she pushed her naked buttocks against his still covered front, which didn't prevent her from feeling his erection straining against his trousers. He let out a ferocious grunt as his grip became almost painful on her hips as he kept her still to brush against her back. She was so lost that she even thought she could feel his pleasure as he rubbed against her.

He let out another grunt, louder, and this time she would bet it was of frustration as his hands left her hips to unbutton his trousers. She could hear him fumbling fast behind her back and before she could even have the time to turn around and take things in her hand – literally – his hands were back on her as he lightly pushed between her shoulders to make her bend a little as she finally felt his naked and wet erection brush her bottom. She couldn't help it, she moved her back up and down, rubbing her buttocks against his manhood, wanting to feel him lose control.

"Damn, stop!" He let out through gritted teeth as he tried to still her hips from moving too much.

She couldn't keep an amused chuckle from escaping her lips before he lightly spanked her bottom, which only made her moan again. "Do not laugh at me, Hermione," He warned with his most smooth voice. She could feel his smile as his teeth gave a tiny bite on her neck.

Before she could retort, she felt his erection graze her from behind, rubbing against her wet folds before pushing slowly at her entrance. Merlin, she had missed that incredible sensation of complete fulfillment.

She let out an unrestrained moan as he grunted right by her ear, heightening her sensations. His hands reached for hers as he trapped her against his body in a position she always thought would scare her, making her feel trapped, dependent, powerless and instead just made her feel wanted, desireable, seduced. Finally, he started to move behind her, gently retreating his hips back before slowly, almost excruciatingly, thrusting forward again. It was so slow, so good, she felt every inch of his skin inside of her.

His lips descended on her neck, sucking hard every inch that was not covered by her shirt or by her hair. She briefly wondered how many visible love bites she would have in a few hours until she decided that she didn't care the least as long as he kept touching her, kissing her, grunting in her ear, pushing back inside of her. Yes, she really didn't care.

Too soon she felt him slip out of her. She groaned in protest before he turned her around to face him, sucked harshly on her lips, and knelt down before her in a matter of mere seconds. She always envied his lucidity in every possible circumstance.

Before she even have time to blink, his mouth was on her and she was so grateful that she had thought about putting a Silencing charm on the room. Her eyes remained glued to his tongue and she was sure that not even two minutes had gone by before she felt her orgasm approach. With the last crumbs of self-control she had left, she grabbed his face and pulled him back to her, she would not climax without him inside of her, she needed it, she needed to feel him.

Before he could say a word, she kissed him hungrily, moving him back to the bed. His knees bent under her pressure and as soon as he was sitting, she climbed on him and lowered herself back onto him. They both let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the sensation of being united again for a few moments before she decided to move over him.

His hands reached out for her shirt, unbuttoning it fast as he reached behind her back to undo her bra. As always, in less than a few minutes she was completely naked while he still wore every piece of clothing but his robes. She groaned in displeasure at that realization but she was too close to bother to undo his shirt and instead decided to bite each place of skin she could reach to punish him of that inadvertence.

He groaned loudly when she found that right spot on his neck and bit on it almost too hard but he didn't seem to mind at all as his hands grabbed her buttocks painfully and met each and every one of her thrusts with renewed force.

She was so damn close, she just... with one hand on his shoulders, she touched her clit with the other, which elicited Severus' grunt of approval as his gaze followed her hand. And that was all she needed as she finally clenched around him. As soon as she was finished, she looked at him and gave him a satisfied smile. He leaned forward with his lips to kiss her harshly before yanking himself out of her, lifting her up and turning her around on the bed until she found herself face to face with the plain duvets of the bed.

In one breath, she felt him pressing behind her back and soon, with a harsh thrust, he was inside of her again. They both let out a grunt of relief as her walls tightened around him again. As soon as his fingers reached out around her to touch her nub, he started to move with deep, slow thrusts. Merlin, she never felt so relieved, so fulfilled in her entire life. The world could fall in that right moment, but she wouldn't give a damn as long as she could feel his chest pressed to her back, his hips rocking against her bottom, his length filling her, and his low grunts in her ear. She couldn't help but moan with each stroke.

Less than a few minutes had gone by when she started to clench around him again. He wasn't very far behind as he gave two last deep thrusts before coming inside of her.

They panted exhaustedly, neither of them had the strength to move. Circe, she had never been so sweaty, satisfied and sleepy in her entire life.

After a couple of minutes, when they both had their breath back, Severus found enough energy to move off her only to fall by her side, his chest still moving erratically as he tried to catch his breath.

"I should take you back to the Burrow," He said after a while, turning his head towards her.

She was not expecting a poetic declaration of love after their intimacy, but she couldn't help but be disappointed by those words.

"Of course," She replied with her coldest tone as she got up and looked for her clothes. She dressed as fast and silently as possible, and when she was done, she turned around to look at him. He was sitting on the bed, his gaze diverted from hers and wholly lost. Merlin only knew where. She sighed and made for the door.

She heard him stand up and follow her, but she turned around before she could open the door.

"Don't bother; I can go back to the Burrow on my own." Then she opened the door and closed it silently behind her, just in time to see his dumbfounded expression. She shook her head, she was tired and she didn't have time to fight with Severus.

* * *

Severus was still halfway on the stairs when he saw Hermione disapparate in the center of the living room. He was both bewildered and furious. Bewildered because he didn't have a bloody idea on why she was suddenly fed up with him and furious because they didn't say goodbye to each other nor had he the chance to take her back home, as he was entitled to do – both as her teacher and as her... whatever he was.

He was still standing on the stairs, frowning and musing when he heard the Headmaster's bedroom door open. He turned around automatically, schooling away all his expressions.

"I believe you really should improve your social skills, Severus." Albus started with an amused twinkle in his eyes that just made his frown come back.

"What do you mean, Headmaster?" He drawled, casually smoothing his sleeves and feigning indifference. How the hell did the Headmaster know about his and Hermione's discussion - if it actually could be called such since it didn't involve any conversation - if he was more than sure that Hermione had cast a Silencing charm?

"Oh, nothing, it was just a thought. Anyway, there should be some Firewhisky in the cabinet down in the kitchen, shall you need it. I have to admit that Minerva has excellent taste." And as fast as Dumbledore had opened the door, he disappeared behind it just as quick.

He was about to ignore the Headmaster's suggestion and apparate back to Hogwarts when, after all, he decided that it would not be such a bad idea to calm his nerves a bit before going back to the castle.

* * *

Two days had gone by and Hermione felt restless. Four days had gone by since she had to leave Hogwarts and it felt like a thousand years already. In those last four months she had been busy all the time: homework, classes, helping Severus, trying to understand the mystery of the Headmaster, finding a cure to help him, and supporting Severus. Sometimes - quite a lot actually - she had thought about wanting to get away from all that stress, she had longed for a break to catch her breath but now, now that she could finally have her blessed break, she felt restless.

There was nothing she could do or that she had to do: Molly would provide for their meals, Arthur would come back from work and bring news from the Ministry, and she simply had to wait. She hated it!

Harry and Ron looked much more relaxed than the previous three days. At first, Harry couldn't shut up about how much he wanted to avenge Dumbledore by facing Snape and what an injustice it had been that Snape had been promoted to Headmaster. But after that first few days, he had finally stopped complaining and both he and Ron had decided to make the best out of the situation and have a bit of free time doing nothing. All day they would have meaningless chats about girls or Quidditch, or they would go out and spar for a while with their wands and sometimes, mostly at night, they would all gather in one of their rooms and discuss the Slytherin locket.

Bill and Fleur had arrived that same morning and she couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness in front of the sudden enthusiasm. It is not that she minded that things were lively, but she just wasn't able to share the general happiness of the house. It always felt forced, unnatural and she had never been able to fake a feeling she didn't feel.

That night she would get to see Severus again, hopefully, and she was... well, happy, of course, but after what had happened two days before, she didn't know where they were stood. She recognized that she might have let some of her general frustration cloud her judgment and maybe she had no right to pretend more when the situation obviously didn't permit it.

She didn't know it could be possible, but she felt tearing homesickness. What she and Severus had shared in that past week had been so tender, so right, so intimate and now, it felt like they were complete strangers. He was at Hogwarts and she was here, at the Burrow, fidgeting with her thumbs, waiting for some news. When they had met two days before, what they shared had been enjoyable but lacking. It was release, satisfaction, relief, but it had not been intimate. And she missed it. She missed that familiarity and intimacy that seemed to be just theirs. Alright, she was childish, but she couldn't help it.

"Hermione?" Ron called her as she finally turned her gaze away from the crackling fire of the fireplace to Ron's questioning face. She had spaced out, again.

"Yes, Ron?" She gave him what she hoped was a warm smile but she mustn't have succeeded in her attempt since Ron replied with a specular grimace.

"Is everything alright? You just look so… distant." She sighed: he was right, she had been miles away in the past few days, well, actually also that was a lie. The truth was that she had not been with her friends for months now and they weren't to blame if at one point they noticed it.

"It is just that… I don't know; I guess it is because of this situation. I miss school, you know?" Ron gave her a knowing grin as if he had known the cause of her mental absence from the start.

"If it isn't like you to always think about homework. But I am sure we will go back, it is just a matter of time. Hopefully Voldemort will be dead and everything will be easier. Sometimes… no, it's a silly question." He shook his head as he erased the distance between them and sat beside her on the armrest.

"No, go on," She said curiously, turning her face towards him.

"Sometimes don't you wish things had gone differently?" He asked almost painfully. "What I mean is that… it is not like I regret that I met you and Harry, I would never, you became part of my family, you know that. It is just that… don't you wish that things had gone exactly as they went but differently? I am not making any sense, I know." He dismissed the matter with another shake of his red hair.

"No, no, I know exactly what you mean and yes, sometimes I wish it, too: that things had gone exactly as they went but better. I know what you mean, Ron." They shared a knowing smile and then Ron got up and went back to chat with his family cheerfully but it was nice to know that she wasn't the only one with a strange sense of melancholy. She felt… understood and it felt good.


End file.
